DARK KNIGHT: Volume 1-FROM THE SHADOWS
by MegaSam777
Summary: In this prequel to the JUSTICE UNIVERSE, the dark origins of Batman are revealed. In a dark and reckless place in his life, Bruce Wayne, heir to Wayne Enterprises trains himself to find his parents' killer in a worldwide journey of self-discovery. But as he grows in control and maturity, he learns that he is destined to do something greater and become a symbol of hope and justice.
1. Murder

"Breaking news from GCN. Thomas and Martha Wayne have been declared dead. At 11:42 tonight, a man in the streets of Crime Alley killed the couple as they left the Monarch Theater with their nine-year old son and heir to the Wayne fortune, Bruce Wayne."

Alfred Pennyworth sat in the hospital and closed his eyes, trying hard to ignore the blabbering mouth of the female reporter. He had just confirmed that the bodies were in fact Thomas and Martha. Tears blurred his vision as they welled up in his eyes. Dozens of reporters spotted him on the bench outside of the morgue and immediately, flash bulbs flashed and voices flooded his ears.

"Please, no questions." Alfred yelled over the crowd of piranha.

"Mr. Pennyworth! Are you the official caregiver for the young Wayne now?"

"Stop." he said.

"What is going to happen now? Are you in control of the company?"

"Is he going to move away from Gotham?"

"Stop." he said again, his voice getting choked up.

"He's just a spoiled brat. Who knows what will happen." Alfred heard a reporter say quietly to another.

Alfred looked at the man and threw off his tie. He stood up aggressively and grabbed a large expensive camera, taking it from a reporter's hands and tossing it into the wall opposite of him. He screamed in anger and grabbed the idiot reporter, holding him by his collar and tossing him into the floor.

"Get out of here! All of you!" Alfred screamed as the reporters ran from him and he sat back on the bench, letting the tears fall from his eyes.

* * *

Bruce Wayne sat beside Officer Gordon in the backseat of the GCPD squad car, tears drying on his cheeks and his arms around Gordon. He looked down at Bruce and rubbed his hair as the boy sniffled. His partner and best friend, Harvey Bullock drove through traffic with the sirens on and turned off the main Interstate, seeing the outskirts of Gotham before him. Wayne Manor shined in front of the waxing moon and Bullock stopped the car as he waited for the gate to open.

"We're almost home, Bruce." Gordon said quietly to Bruce.

Bruce nodded and wiped his eyes as he saw his home behind the backseat grate in front of him. Gordon took his coat off Bruce's back and watched him as he began to cry again. Gordon rubbed his head and slightly slammed it against the seat.

"I promise you that I and Officer Bullock will do everything we can to find the man. You hear me?" Gordon said softly.

"Thank you, Officer." Bruce replied, hugging Gordon tight and crying harder.

Bullock couldn't help but feel saddened by the boy's tragedy. He pulled into the large driveway that lead to the front door of Wayne Manor. Alfred sat on the steps with Leslie Thompkins, the family doctor. She was wearing a long red cocktail dress and Alfred's tuxedo was wrinkled and the tie was missing. While Thomas and Martha took Bruce to see a movie, Alfred and Leslie went on a date to a nice restaurant before Alfred saw the reports on TV an hour before.

They descended the stairs as Gordon carried Bruce over to Leslie who took him inside while Alfred talked with Gordon. He shook Gordon's hand and thanked Bullock as they drove off. Alfred sighed with sadness and rushed inside Wayne Manor, shutting the doors and watching as Leslie put Bruce to bed after giving him a baby aspirin to help him sleep better. She walked down the steps, her makeup smeared and curly blonde hair out of its bun.

"Alfred. He's not doing well." Leslie cried, hugging Alfred tight.

"I know. I don't know what I can do. They're gone." Alfred said without emotion.

"There's only one thing we can do." Leslie said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"What's that?" Alfred asked, backing away from her after the kiss.

"We can love him."

She attempted to hug him again but he backed away. Leslie gave him a puzzled and quivering look. He rubbed his eyes and scratched his graying hair.

"I need to be there for him. I can't be there for you too. It's too much for me to handle. You can help with making him feel comforted. But only comfort him." Alfred said, regretting every word.

"What are you saying, Alfred?" she asked, her voice getting high and quiet.

"I think you know what I'm saying, Leslie. _This_ cannot exist. I'm sorry." Alfred continued.

Leslie shoved Alfred hard, making him stumble and nearly break into tears. She quickly walked out of the manor and shut the door with force, the sounds of her engine quickly fading away. Alfred watched her lights outside of the main left door and closed his eyes, placing his head against the pane of glass. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of red wine from the wine freezer. He popped the cork and tossed the corkscrew onto the metal counter. He sat in his chair at the family table in the dining hall and drank half the bottle before taking a breath.

He groaned in sickness and despair, eyeing the portrait of him and Thomas, giving a smile in the middle of a golf course. The picture was thirteen years old and Alfred hated the memories of his life as they floated into his mind. He growled at the portrait and drank another swig of wine before talking to Thomas in the picture.

"Damn you." he said as his voice broke.

"Damn you, Thomas!"

Alfred screamed briefly and landed on his knees, the wine spilling onto the carpet. He grabbed the bottle and sat it on the table, switching it with the picture frame. He looked into his younger self's eyes and envied him. The young Alfred would never know that his best friends would be killed by a selfish man with a weapon. He almost threw the picture across the dining hall but stopped himself as he dropped the portrait on the ground and passed out from exhaustion, sickness, and heartache.


	2. Paris

Bruce woke up in a cold sweat and punched the table to his left side, breaking off the right leg. He jumped from his bed and landed on the ground. After getting used to where he was, he noticed the girl beside him, half naked and a sheet around her body as she stood against the window. She was the pretty girl from the bar the night before. Bruce began to have flashes of the night. She flirted with him, he got kicked out for being underage, they ran to her hotel and the rest was fuzzy but Bruce knew the details by the condition of the room.

"Are you okay, Gary?" she asked him.

"Yeah, just a really bad dream." Bruce replied, rubbing his head and standing up, almost embarrassed in his underwear.

The girl look at him with a worried look and shrugged, dropping the blanket and not ashamed to be completely naked in broad daylight. Bruce tried not to look as he brushed his shoulder-length black hair back with his hand. She walked over to the bathroom and once she shut the door, Bruce looked over at the table and steadied the leg against the table. He picked up his wallet and shook his head at his fake ID. His name was Gary Kane and he was twenty according to the birth date. In reality he was nineteen and a runaway.

On his birthday this year, Bruce had told his guardian and butler Alfred that he needed to train his body and mind in order to return to Gotham. For ten years, he had done his best to search for his parents' murderer to no avail. In high school, he took every science and history class and had volunteered in the GCPD's volunteer program. He made six arrests and never had to fire his gun. Bruce was excellent in science, criminal justice, and psychology. But he knew that training in Gotham wouldn't be enough if he wanted to find the killer.

So, in the past five months he had traveled around the world, learning various helpful fighting and survival techniques. He was currently in Paris, attempting to stop four robbers from stealing valuable diamonds from a billionaire's company building. He had gained their trust and tonight, "Gary Kane and the others would attempt to rob the building. Bruce had a plan in mind in which he would capture them before they could steal the diamonds or hurt anyone. He thought by becoming a criminal, it was the only way to truly understand one's stress and motives. Confident in his plan, he had gone to the local bar near the Eiffel Tower to celebrate his inevitable victory. While having a few illegal drinks, a pretty girl bought him a drink and they began to talk. She was an American visiting from Star City. He forgot her name though. Something sexy.

He put on his clothes from the night before and gathered his things before looking at the disheveled hotel room. He was going to miss that girl. She was great. Before he could open the door, he looked outside the window from the patio and saw the Eiffel Tower in the early mist of rain that covered Paris and looked over the edge of the fence, seeing the people walking among the streets.

"Hey, Gary! Hand me a towel please!" the girl yelled from the shower.

Bruce walked over to the closet beside the kitchen and grabbed a towel, handing it to her from the bathroom door.

"I can't reach it." she said.

Bruce took a deep breath and walked through the door, seeing her wonderful and athletic naked body in front of him. She thankfully grabbed the towel and dried her face and hair off before seeing the wallet in his left hand. She raised an eyebrow and combed back her raven hair as she walked towards him.

"Where are you heading to?" she asked him.

"Uh..." Bruce said, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Coffee. You want any?" Bruce said quickly.

"Mmmm, no. I'm fine. Hurry back." she replied with a smile as she finally covered herself with the towel.

"Okay. And I'm sorry. What's your name again?" Bruce said with a cringe.

"You don't remember? Are you serious?" the girl scoffed.

"No, no, no. Your last name." Bruce said with a fake laugh.

_Nice move..._ Bruce thought to himself.

"Oh." the girl replied with a smile.

"Kyle. Selina Kyle."


	3. Here's Two Euros

As Bruce left the hotel, he looked at his reflection in the window of La Boucherie sur Carroll Street. He saw that his light beard was starting to really cover, his hair needed a trim around his neck, and his eyes had dark bags under them. One thing was done right though, he definitely didn't look like Bruce Wayne.

That was the reason for the long-haired hippy look he was trying to achieve. Bruce Wayne was supposed to be on a four-year college trip around the world with his private tutor. As famous and popular as the Wayne Family was, people really could care less about the playboy antics of an irresponsible teen who thought he knew everything. Or at least that is how he tried to appear. The charade was working. At least for now.

As Bruce enjoyed his stroll to the theater where he was to meet his robbery buddies, he thought about Selina. She was a beautiful girl. College kid. Two years older than Bruce but just as wild and fun. He felt bad about leaving her but she was in college, she would get over it. Maybe if Bruce wasn't on a job, he could take her out to dinner and see where things went. But his life wasn't meant for love. It was about training himself to the peak of perfection. He needed to find the killer. It would take everything he had.

He turned left into an alley where he saw six homeless men sitting by a trashcan fire pit. Bruce walked up to them and they returned the look with glares of surprise.

"Besoin d'un peu d'argent, mes amis?" Bruce asked in perfect French. _Need some money, my friends?_

The men nodded and one of them sat up from the littered street, holding his hands out. Bruce smiled and dug in his pocket. He pulled out five euros and handed it to the man.

"Merci beaucoup! Mais je crains que nous ne voulons plus de votre argent." _Thank you so much. But I'm afraid we want more than your money._

Bruce gave the man a sharp glance and saw the rest of his group stand up and circle him. Bruce saw that all of them were smiling. They intended to rob him for everything he had. Bruce shook his head and gave a small laugh as they came closer and the leader snatch the euro bills from his hand. Bruce tightened his fists and prepared for the fight to begin. He would let them _try _and make the first move. He heard two men jump behind him and their hands hit his shoulders. Bruce let out a sigh and felt the leader preparing a punch. _  
_

"Here we go." Bruce said in English.

As the leader swung, Bruce grabbed the fist and twisted the man's arm backwards, breaking three fingers and tossing him into the fire pit. The two men behind him grabbed his neck and attempted to choke him. Bruce grabbed the left man's greasy hair and pulled a tuff out, making him scream in pain. The right man punched Bruce's back and he yelled out, turning around and grabbing the man, making the thug in front of Bruce punch him in the face. Blood shot from his nose and Bruce threw him into the three men in front. The leader pulled out a switch blade and attempted to stab him, moving swiftly to the right and elbowing the man with the hood on beside the overturned fire.

"You are dead!" the leader shouted in broken English.

"Bring it!" Bruce yelled, punching him in the throat and slamming his head into the wall.

Bruce ran up the side of the opposite wall and jumped off it, clotheslining two of the men hard and knocking them out. The man with the bloody nose grabbed the switch blade and attempted to stab Bruce. Instead, the hilt of the blade hit the back of his head and Bruce grabbed the man's arm, bending it backwards, a sickening crack heard in the alley. One of the men jumped on Bruce's back and tossed both of them into the side of a Dumpster. Bruce eyed a broken chair leg in the Dumpster and picked it up, whacking the man across his chest, making him stumble backwards. Three of the men ran at him and he swung at two of them, the splinters slicing their faces while the third man tackled Bruce and started beating him without mercy. As blood poured from a cut on his right cheek and from his busted nose, Bruce screamed in anger and grabbed the man's Adam's Apple, squeezing it tight as the man surrendered. Bruce stood up and punched the man five times in the face until he fell down in pain. The remaining men standing all ran at Bruce but he jumped off the Dumpster, landing behind them and kicking all of them behind their knees.

As they screamed and cried in pain, Bruce saw three of his euros on the ground and picked it up, stuffing it in his pocket and kicking the leader in the stomach. He grabbed him by his hair and made sure he could understand what he was saying.

"You listen to me. The next time you attempt a stunt like this... just remember that if they are someone like me... they may kill you without mercy. Here's two euros. Add it for your friends' hospital bills." Bruce said as he punched the leader one last time.

_Rookies._ Bruce thought to himself as he wiped blood from his face and walked to the meeting place.


	4. The Ravine

"What happened to you, Gary?" Eric Campbell asked Bruce as he walked inside the warehouse.

"These idiots jumped me. Don't worry. I won." Bruce replied as he shut the door.

The men all nodded in his direction and put the heads back down on the giant table. On the table was a giant blueprint map with intricate directions for all the different floors of the building they intended to rob. Bruce peeked over the side and saw his position marked by a blue thumb tack. He was supposed to be stationed outside the main office window where they would steal their target. An estimated four hundred million dollars in US money that was in a giant safe behind a bookcase. Bruce was still trying to figure out his plans on how he would be the hero in all this. He was planning to call the police secretly as soon as they began their robbery. They weren't bringing any weapons and were only using glass cutters and surveillance gear.

"When are we heading out?" Bruce asked when the group went silent.

"Hold on, Gary. We're finishing up the safe gear. You know what you're going to do, right?" Eric asked him.

"Yep. Repel down the roof, wait for your signal, and drill through the window when you and Johnny enter the office." Bruce said, remembering what Eric had told him three days before.

The last three days, the three of them had gathered supplies and getting proper transportation for the job. They needed two small vans and a regular neutral white car. Against his better wishes, Bruce took place in the theft to grab the neutral car from a car lot. He drove it out of the lot just as the driver came out of his workplace. His accomplice, Ali Murks took the wheel and drove them away from attention. Bruce began to rethink his decision about the robbery after experiencing the fear of a crime.

"Good. Are you ready?" Eric replied.

Bruce nodded and gave a small cough when he handed him a pistol with a suppressor on the end.

He wasn't a big fan of guns and had hated them since the man who killed his parents used one. Eric had promised that no guns would be used. Then again, you couldn't trust a criminal's word. Bruce could still hear the echoing gunshots as Bruce cried in the streets of Old Gotham, seeing the man grab a few pearls from his mother's white neck and run off into the darkness of the street. He shook his head as he returned to the real world and saw Ali staring at him with an amused look.

"Nervous?" Ali laughed.

"A little." Bruce managed to say as he stuck the pistol in his leather jacket inside pocket.

"You girls ready?" Eric asked his team as they headed to the black van parked by the garage door.

* * *

Bruce could hear the glass crush inside the car as he opened his eyes from his deep peaceful sleep. The black ice made the tires slip across the road, breaking through a wooden barrier and tumbling off a four-hundred foot cliff. The steep hill saved his life, the hill acting as a harsh cushion to the injuries Bruce was receiving. He screamed in fear as snow poured in through the window and saw the cargo container attached to the eighteen-wheeler break apart and spin around to the hood of the truck. The truck driver struggled to click his seatbelt in but failed, his limp body failing all over the car and his head smacking Bruce's.

"Hold on!" Bruce said, his left eye completely covered in blood.

Glass and snow whooshed around them and Bruce held on tight to the man as he screamed in frantic Tibetan. Bruce was breathing hard as the eighteen-wheeler completely flipped over five times, the force throwing the driver out the broken windshield and into his painful death. Bruce cried in anger and sadness, thinking over and over how these few moments would be the last ones of his life. With the truck upside-down and sliding into the ravine below, Bruce held on the dashboard and braced for impact, seeing the cargo container that held tons of meat exploded when it hit the bottom, the scene seen by the fading headlights. Bruce closed his eyes and felt the impact, tossing his body forward and breaking off his door, sticks and metal cutting his face. He closed his eyes as the eighteen-wheeler flipped back over hard, making his head bounce off the ceiling.

"Oh God..." he said weakly after three minutes of silence and pain.

He saw smoke come through the AC vents through the help of the waning moon that lit the wreck. He unclicked his seatbelt and tumbled onto the ground, his side hitting the broken lever of the cargo container, making him groan with pain. He opened his undamaged eye and looked around, seeing a faint fire at the front of the engine and quickly limping away, deep snow to his knees. His thin sweater and jeans did little to warm him as the wind kicked up and the clouds covered most of the moon. He wiped drying blood off his face and arms, trying to spot the road. It was a steep climb and the hill was littered with wreckage. He nearly tripped over a damaged pig carcass and groaned in disgust as he began to ascend the snowy hill. Bruce could hear the wind whistling and saw the faint image of headlights above.

"Hey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs before his voice cracked.

"Hello! Can you hear me?" Bruce screamed again as the car slowed down.

He ran up the hill and was a third of the way up before the car started moving again and sped away. Bruce used both of his hands, pushing snow out of the way as he climbed the hill. He screamed in fear when he saw the poor driver, barely clinging to life as he tried to move his broken neck. Bruce knelt down beside him and held his head up, feeling the blood pumping from the wounds in his chest. Bruce looked back up at the road to spot another set of headlights but saw none. He punched the ground and looked in the man's eyes.

_I'm sorry_. Bruce told the man in broken Tibetan.

The man nodded and held Bruce's face, grateful for his compassion. Bruce ignored the pain in his body and held the men until he saw his eyes close once and for all. Bruce took his cap and placed it over his face, looking at the moon and taking a minute to give respect to the nice driver who gave Bruce the ride. He was heading towards China to study with monks who understood ancient fighting and criminal investigation skills that would help Bruce in finding the murderer of his parents. But now, things were different. That stupid crusade meant nothing now. Not when it had costed many peoples' lives and the loss of Bruce's own innocence. Maybe it was time to go home.

As he finally reached the road over a half hour later, Bruce spotted the Tibetan Military Patrol and knew he would be arrested if caught. He widened his eyes and remembered that if caught, they would arrest him for the robbery in Paris. Against all of his will, he ran back down the side of the cliff, clumsily falling down the side, sliding on the snow as the military approached the cliff and shined their flashlights, yelling for rescue crews when they saw the fiery wreckage below. One of the lights caught Bruce and the man yelled for him to stay still but Bruce limped away from the scene, running farther into the dark, cold ravine.

He journeyed deeper and deeper, hearing the howls of wild animals and the crumbling of snow piling up on the cliff above. He kept remembering back to Eric's heist, all that went wrong and all that could've gone right. He shook his head and tried to stop thinking about the past. Too much of his life had been focused on thinking about the past. The horrible past that shaped him into the icicle he was at the moment. Bruce kept walking for another hour in the darkness, feeling along the rock wall and trying to not think about the dangers that were probably stalking him.

Although snow no longer rained upon him, the air was twice as cold and he felt the dangerous effects of hypothermia begin to set in. His teeth had stopped chattering and he no longer felt cold, almost wanting to take off his clothes as the heat increased. He knew this was dangerous. When a victim of hypothermia no longer felt cold, they were at the worst stage. The next stage was death. He had to find someplace warm and try to set a fire. If he didn't within the next hour, Bruce would be dead no matter what he tried to do. He started sweating the fake heat he was feeling and groaned in pain, struggling to not rip off his sweater. When he touched it, he was surprised to feel the ice completely melted. The same was for his pants and shoes. The ice had turned to water inside his boots and he was shocked.

"What the hell?" Bruce said slowly, seeing a faint yellow light around a corner of the small ravine and narrowing his eyes to see better.

He turned the corner and felt a comforting blast of heat that made him moan with pleasure. He collapsed at the foot of the cave and screamed for help, not caring if the creatures inside would help. He heard light footsteps as he began to faint from exhaustion and looked in the light, seeing the black shadow of a man coming near him. Bruce felt his head being picked up and sighed as the man wiped dried blood from his face.

"Oh... thank you." Bruce said.

"What is your name?" a deep, polite voice answered.

"I...I... don't know if I can tell you." Bruce responded, leaning on the man as he entered the cave.

"There are no secrets in this place. What is your name?" the man said, his voice stronger and more commanding.

"Bru..." he responded with a deep, exhausted breath.

"Bruce Wayne."

"Of the Wayne Family?" the man asked, almost carrying Bruce through the large cave.

His vision was blurry but he could feel the presence of many people and heard the odd sound sound of computers running and saw modern light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. He shook his head in disbelief and limped over to a room cut out from the rock. He saw many piles of hospital blankets and a nice bed laying on the ground beside medical supplies.

"Yes. The last one." Bruce replied.

"Lie." the man said.

Bruce gave him a look with one eye opened and raised his eyebrow.

"I'm not surprised you don't recognize me but I assure you that I am _the_ Bruce Wayne of the Wayne Fortune." Bruce said.

"I didn't mean the word in that sense, Mr. Wayne. Lie down." the man said calmly, pointing to the bed.

"Oh..." Bruce replied, about to bend over before he felt a sharp needle enter his left buttock.

"What the f-?" Bruce said before he heard the hissing of a canister and fell over in the bed, quickly covered by a blanket.

He looked up at the man and with the light above him, was finally able to see the man's face in clear view. He was an older man, mid 40s, a handlebar mustache that was graying, and short grey hair that made his face look slim and slightly youthful. He wore a long black trench coat with ancient symbols decorating the waist region and had fingerless gloves. He looked like a leader of sorts.

"What is your name?" Bruce said, feeling the tranquilizer starting to do its job as he began to feel woozy.

"I have been called many. Over centuries... I have lost my original birthright..." the man said, leaning up and shutting off the light above the bed.

"Centuries?" Bruce said with a drugged-out laugh.

"But now, I am known simply as Ra's al Ghul."

"Ra's al Ghul..." Bruce muttered as he drifted to sleep.

"Ra's al Ghul. Ra's al Ghul..."


	5. Bad Guys

"Master Bruce! Where are you?" Alfred yelled from the dining room hallway.

Bruce had climbed up the twenty-foot tall bookcase in his father's study across from the hall. At seven years old, Bruce was still small enough to hide in small spaces due to his flexible body. He peeked out from the top and blew dust away from the bookcase. He attempted to hold his sneeze in but couldn't hold it any longer, sneezing a loud and snotty sneeze that echoed across the first floor of the mansion.

Alfred turned his head and raised an eyebrow. He walked across the hall and into the study, seeing Bruce struggling to hold back another sneeze.

"Master Bruce, your food has sat for ten minutes. Please come down before you get hurt." Alfred said with a stern tone, a brief hint of thick English in his accent.

"Alfred. Why do you talk so funny?" Bruce asked as he climbed down the bookcase.

"I was not born in this house, my dear boy. Not even in America." Alfred said, catching Bruce as he leaped from six feet.

"Where _were_ you born?" Bruce asked, holding onto Alfred as he carried him to the dining table.

"Mars, Master Bruce. My father was king of Olympus Mons." Alfred said.

"Nuh-uh! Mars is a different planet! Not another country." Bruce laughed.

Alfred laughed and sat Bruce in his chair as Alfred walked around the other side of the table, facing Bruce as he ate his chicken salad sandwich and chips.

"I was born in a small town called Old Broonwich. It is in Europe... near England. I was sent to war when I turned eighteen and served for three years. After my service was halfway done with, I was accepted into a group of British spies. MI-5. I served there another four years until I was in a place called Russia. I was called to help my country and save a very important man from America. It was my job to protect him while he stole something from the men we were fighting." Alfred explained to Bruce.

"You stole it from the bad guys?" Bruce said, excited as ever when he listened to Alfred's stories.

"No. The men we were fighting were not 'bad guys', Master Bruce." Alfred said, stopping the young boy.

"Those men fought bravely for their country just as your father did when he was a war doctor. Remember that, Master Bruce... never blame a man for his actions... you must know his intentions if you want to judge him. Do you understand what I am saying?" Alfred said in a serene voice that Bruce always could comprehend.

Bruce nodded slowly.

"Anyhow, here I am; protecting this man and waiting for him to get everything he needs from the enemy base camp. Then, a bombardment of explosions came from above us and the man I was protecting was killed during the airplanes' bombing raid. Many of military men died in that explosion. I was nearly one of them. I ran off the edge of a cliff covered with snow and used my climbing gear to scale the cliff, easing myself down as my men began to follow. Just as I was nearly to the bottom, a hidden airplane shot out a bomb and it exploded near me. I was hurt. Badly. As I lay dying on the snow-covered ground, I saw one man, his clothes all cut up and singed by fire, walking towards me. It was your father. He saved my life and I became his best friend and butler. I am proud to serve a man like him. If you ever want to aspire to be like someone, your father is who you should look up to. I've never met a better man in my life." Alfred said.

"Except you, Master Bruce." Alfred continued with a smile as Bruce chewed sloppily on his chips.

"Bruce! We're home!" Bruce heard his mother shout through the house as the main door flew open. Bruce jumped from the table and ran towards his parents. Alfred watched him hug his mother and smiled. Bruce was content with life and the way things were. Someday, he would be a good doctor in the war like his dad. Or maybe he could be a lawyer and send the real bad guys to prison. If Bruce could help people, that's be reward enough.


	6. The League Of Assassins

Bruce flicked opened his eyes and saw the the cave ceiling above him and held his side in pain as he lifted up. He saw a bandage on his side and stitches sewn onto his cheek. He lifted himself from the bed and looked around. He could tell the whole cave incident wasn't a dream and tried to find that man. Ra's al Ghul. As he limped around the cave, he walked out of his room and saw many men and women, all doing work while wearing the same robes as Ra's. Some were on computers, some using swords and other blades to battle each other with, and a few were writing on parchment paper. It was an odd mix to Bruce's eyes. It seemed as if the past and present had collided with each other. After being amazed by the cave and its people, a tall African man walked up to Bruce and held his chin up while talking.

"The Demon's Head is waiting for you in his quarters." he said sternly but with respect in his tone of voice.

"The what?" Bruce asked, still slightly dazed by the pain in his side.

"Ra's al Ghul. Arabic for the Demon's Head. He wishes to see you. Are you well?" the man asked.

"Um...yes." Bruce replied with a nod.

"Follow me." the man said.

As they walked for three minutes, Bruce saw the different hallways and rooms that had been cut into the rock. He saw a giant library, forty feet tall and bookcases twenty feet long. He followed the man into a large room with modern-day technology such as a desktop computer and a flat-screen TV mount against the rock wall. He saw Ra's al Ghul meditating on his bed, his legs in a crossed position, his hands in a praying motion. He looked different from the last time Bruce had seen him. The grey in his facial hair was completely gone and any wrinkles on his forehead and eyes were gone also. Bruce raised an eyebrow but discredited his suspicion to the snow in his beard.

"Feeling better, Mr. Wayne?" Ra's asked without opening his eyes.

"Yes I am," Bruce began as the African man walked silently out of the room, shutting the large wooden doors.

"Thank you for your help. I'd be dead if you hadn't have saw me."

"Yes." Ra's replied, not really paying attention to Bruce's statement.

Bruce raised his eyebrow again, feeling somewhat discomforted.

Ra's took one last deep breath and opened his eyes slowly, unfolding his legs and hopping off his bed. Bruce watched him stretch his neck muscles and stretch his legs in a squatting exercise. Bruce licked his lips as he prepared to speak, Ra's looking up before he could talk.

"What is your question? Ask me and I will provide an answer." Ra's said.

"Okay..." Bruce said, rubbing his chin.

"What is this place? And why did you save me?"

"This is our Tibetan campground. We have many across the world, at least six on every continent. I saw a man in need of dire help. Our mission is to preserve humanity and save it from itself. Any soul saved is one we protect." Ra's explained.

"Hm." Bruce said, wondering what kind of cult had _saved_ him.

"Ah, I see you're worried about us. I assure you we are not an occult or terrorist group. We are called the League of Shadows." Ra's said.

Bruce gave a small laugh.

"Something amusing?" Ra's asked.

"No, no, no. It's just that..." Bruce began.

"I remember you saying last night that your real name had been lost for...centuries?" he continued with a laugh.

"Yes." Ra's replied in that same dry tone again.

"What?" Bruce scoffed, suddenly slowly backing up.

"I estimate that I've been alive for over 600 years." Ra's said, looking up at the ceiling as Bruce looked in disbelief.

"How is that possible? Are you trying to prank me or something? You don't look more than 40." Bruce replied, looking around his face.

"But looks can deceive, can't they? You appear to be a homeless man who's trying to survive but in actuality, you're a billionaire on a self-righteous journey of discovery. Correct?" Ra's asked.

Bruce paused a second and silently admired Ra's' intuition. He was very observant and talked like a scholar, his hands always crossed low and his chin held high. This was a man of power and respect.

"Maybe... but I want to know how it's possible for someone to live more than a century and yet look like a normal, healthy man. " Bruce said, turning his head and waiting for a reasonable explanation.

"All that will be explained soon, Mr. Wayne." Ra's began, raising his left hand in Bruce's direction.

"But first, I need to ask you a question."

Bruce nodded his head, signaling for him to continue.

"How good are you in a fight?" he asked, his voice suddenly changing tone as he paced around Bruce.

"Not bad. I can hold my own with at least five big men. Studied a bit of karate during high school. Why?" Bruce asked, getting nervous as Ra's stood behind him.

"And your intelligence? Did you pass high school?" Ra's continued.

"Yes. All As and a 4.0 GPA. Why are you asking me these questions?" Bruce asked.

Suddenly, Ra's grabbed Bruce's neck with his forearm and pressed hard, making Bruce gasp for air. Remembering his training in guerilla street tactics, Bruce hit his palms against Ra's' ear making him let go. Bruce grabbed his choking arm and bent it backwards, slamming him into the rock wall all within two seconds. Bruce let go of Ra's and backed up, holding his fists up in a fighting stance. Ra's moved his shoulder around and smiled, giving Bruce a round of applause.

"What the hell is this?" Bruce said, interrupting his claps.

"An interview of sorts." Ra's replied, putting his hands down.

"What?" Bruce asked, utterly confused.

"How would like to be a part of the League of Assassins?"


	7. Lazarus

"We have remained a silent organization for over 1500 years and have always played our part in the history of the Earth." Ra's said as we led Bruce around the cave.

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked.

"During the early days of Christianity, we were there to help Christians out of Rome. They were needed in order to spread the knowledge of books and printing; as I'm sure you know, the first book printed was the Gutenberg Bible. And during the days of early colonization, it was us who persuaded Spain to use Christopher Columbus to explore the New World. After Jamestown was settled, we began the tobacco trading industry, giving wealth to our many members in Parliament. Many presidents from your country have also been part of the League." he continued.

"Like who?" Bruce asked, giving Ra's a paranoid stare.

"I'm not at liberty to say. Until you become a member of the League, you are only allowed the basics of our operations throughout history." Ra's replied.

Bruce nodded, not actually wanted to know the full history and the part Ra's' people had played.

"I suppose I should tell you about myself, then." Ra's said as they ascended an ancient, carved staircase that led to the peak of the mountain the lair was located in.

"I know I was born of Arabic and European descent. My mother was a very brilliant Arab woman who taught me mathematics and algebra, which helped me in building many temples as I made my way west from our small village. I built temples for around fifteen years. I married a beautiful woman. After watching all of my children die, I was...thrust into the middle of a war. I lost my mother and father. Soon after, I discovered a pit. I named it the Lazarus Pit after the man Jesus brought back from the dead. I discovered that it had properties that could heal and even bring recent dead back to life. I've tried to study its components all of my extra life but have only found out that it rejuvenates cells at an alarming rate. " Ra's said.

Bruce was in amazement. Ra's seemed to be telling the truth. As they climbed up the steps, Ra's twisted a small lever mounted against the rock and pushed hard, watching a stone door slide to the left. Bruce felt a cold blast of air and his teeth began to chatter as Ra's leaned over the edge of the mountain, closing his eyes and seeming to enjoy the cold air. Bruce walked near him and took a deep breath. These men and women held honor closer than anything it seemed. Ra's was a respectful man with obviously many, many years of training under his belt. Bruce's only other option was to go home to Gotham and live in guilt and disappointment for not finding his parent's killer. Maybe this was the best way to build himself up and realize his true potential. It wasn't like he had something to lose.

"Mr...al Ghul?" Bruce said, feeling awkward.

Ra's turned his head and looked in Bruce's dark green eyes.

"I want to become one of the League of Assassins."

Ra's nodded with a smile and put his hands on Bruce's shoulders.

"I was hoping that would be your answer."

* * *

** two days later...**

"Even though I am closer to you than my other students, I will not treat you any differently. You understand that, don't you, Mr. Wayne?" Ra's said as Bruce tried on a suit of light ninja armor used for training.

"Yes." Bruce said with a nod.

Over the last few days, Bruce had learned the basics of qualifications of becoming one of the League. Their training was unlike anything he had ever seen. It lasted four or five years and Bruce knew the risks he would be taking. They would travel all over the world to the different Assassin Camps and learn to fight and battle in all various terrain and environments. Training wasn't based on writing skills or memorization. The League was based upon training protegés the way of the warrior at all costs, whether that meant real-life battles, two-on-two duels, and randomized obstacle courses that would be set up at each camp. It would be a long and hard journey, but Bruce knew he could and _would _conquer anything in his way.

"What camp are we starting at?" Bruce asked Ra's in his dark blue ninja uniform that had a belt with many ninja stars and gas bombs in it.

"There is an excellent training facility just on the coast of Iceland. You will learn the basic skills of a sword and the various ways to take out a opponent by only using your mind." Ra's explained as they boarded a giant private jet at a Tibetan airport.

Bruce nodded and stretched in the armor as he boarded the plane. He was ready to partake in this life-changing journey. It was amazing. Over the last couple days, he had completely forgot who he was. It was nice to be someone unknown and normal rather than the prodigal son of Gotham. He still wasn't completely sold on the idea of being a part of an organization of this magnitude but decided to take a chance. He was sitting with twelve other men and women on the plane as they silently flew to Iceland. They landed in a little over four hours and Bruce was surprised by the amazing speed of the jet. He sat up in his seat as they got close to landing and saw half a dozen black vehicles near the runway.

"There's our valets, I guess." a ninja sitting beside Bruce said as the jet circled the runway.

"Yep." Bruce replied.

"Malik Rocklard." the ninja said, holding out his hand.

"Bruce Wayne." Bruce said, almost stopping to make a fake name but feeling no shame in revealing who he really was.

"The Bruce Wayne?" Malik replied.

Bruce nodded his head with a small smile that was unseen due to the mask hood.

"Wow. What are you doing out here?" he continued.

"Decided it was time to make my own destiny, I suppose." Bruce said, looking out the window and seeing the men's Uzis and small pistols in their holsters.

"I guess I'm trying to do the same thing too. My family is gone and I want to help this world. My friend told me about them." Malik said.

Bruce nodded his head and listened to him as he talked about his family's history.

Malik had a strange accent that Bruce couldn't point out but he was from Europe somewhere. He looked at Bruce with soft blue eyes and Bruce tried to imagine what he looked like without his mask hood. He had the skin of someone who had been in the sun a lot and his suit was stretched by his fit body that bulged through it. As the jet landed, Bruce took a deep breath and waited in line as the jet's door flipped open and depending on the color of their uniforms, went into different cars. Malik and Bruce had a dark blue color on their armor and rode in seperate vans as they drove to their own home base. After driving around the beautiful shores of the Atlantic Ocean, the vans finally stopped at a multi-million dollar beach-house right on the coast. Bruce got out and saw Ra's with his arms crossed on top of the deck, set up like the podium at a church.

"Everyone. I am Ra's al Ghul. Your leader and future confidant in battle. I know that some of you have military expertise and a very few have even killed already." Ra's said through a microphone.

Bruce looked around cautiously, wondering where the killers were.

"This place is different and tougher than any training course you've ever partaken in. I swear that you will be in pain, you will sweat, and you will bleed. But through all of that sacrifice, you will become part of a greater purpose. The League of Assassins was made for men and women like you all. The ones who were told that you weren't good enough... that you would never amount to anything... I promise you that those days are over. Here, you will learn that respect is earned when it is deserved, that your most important weapon is your mind." Ra's continued, pacing the deck and pointing to his head.

"I only have one question..." Ra's said, pausing for a moment to get everyone's full attention.

"Are you ready to begin?"


	8. What's In That Safe

Bruce's teeth rattled as the opponent's blade clashed against his. Bruce was thrust into the concrete wall behind him and ducked as the wooden blade swung over his head and the man he was fighting threw an illegal punch, catching Bruce in the throat. He fell to the ground and rubbed his neck as the aggressive man took his sword and slammed it against his back, making the wood crack as Bruce fell.

"What the hell? You can't do that?" Bruce said with a groan as he looked up at the man he was fighting.

"How many rules do you think the enemy will follow when we're in battle?" the opponent responded in a thick British accent.

Bruce groaned in annoyance and got up, seeing the ninja leader toss the man another wooden sword and shook his head, trying to ignore the pain. He stood up quickly and ran at the man, swinging the sword across his head, cracking against the tactical helmet. The man hit the ground hard and Bruce remembered his police training, pressing his knee against the back of his neck, twisting his arm backward and making him drop the sword. He made the man stand up and loosened his grip a fraction, making the man turn around. Bruce screamed as he kicked him hard in the chest. Sand flew up from underneath him and the man threw off his helmet, running at Bruce and tackling him to the ground, putting his hands against his throat.

"Think you can do that to me?" the man said, slobbering on Bruce's chest as he tightened his grip.

He looked around and saw all his comrades backing up from the fighting circle. Bruce looked to the mansion and saw Ra's standing in a ceremonial robe, raising his chin as he watched the struggle. Bruce got enough strength to pull his arms from under his body and slammed his hands against the man's ears, making him back up. The man flipped over and Bruce put him in a headlock, ignoring the painful jabs his elbow threw into Bruce's gut. Bruce couldn't hold up against his strength and let him go, making the man swing heavy punches at Bruce. He blocked a hard swing with the broken piece of wooden sword and winced as wooden splinters flew in his face. The English man punched his head multiple times, the mask doing little to protect him. Bruce became exhausted and attempted a scissor kick, only hitting the giant man's calf, causing no damage. The man punched him repeatedly in the gut and slobber flew from Bruce's mouth. He held back vomit and screamed as he delivered a punch that caught him right between the eyes. The man grunted and fell to the ground, back first. He didn't get up. After five seconds, Bruce leaned down and saw blood pouring from the man's nose.

"Heh! Good job! Now finish me..." the man said through painful gasps.

Bruce looked up at Ra's who nodded his head slowly.

All the men watched as Bruce stood above the giant English man, waiting for him to deliver the final blow. Bruce had been warned by many other members that loss of life would have to be part of the training. Bruce couldn't kill, not after what had happened in Paris. He shook his head at the man and walked away, taking a deep breath.

"No." Bruce said quietly.

"Wha-?" the man said, dumbfounded.

"I won't." Bruce replied, leaving a pause as he lowered his head, facing the man.

"I can't." he continued, walking away and kicking sand as he faced the gang of Shadow members.

"You coward! Finish me! Finish me, dammit!" the man yelled, punching the sand and letting spit fly from his mouth.

Bruce watched as the crowd separated like Moses and the Red Sea. He walked past Ra's and into his quarters. Ra's faced Bruce's back as he walked up the steps with a limp and to his personal room. He took off his mask and collapsed on the bed, crying his eyes out and moaning softly into his pillow. He thought about a lot of things: his parents, Alfred, Wayne Manor, and Paris.

* * *

"You girls ready?" Eric asked his team as they headed to the black van parked by the garage door.

They all nodded and climbed into the van, with Kenneth driving and Eric in the passenger seat. All of them were excited and scared beyond belief. They had no idea what awaited them but they all had one thing in mind: money. Except for Bruce. He was going to save the day. He sat in the back and looked at his partners as they all prayed silently or looked out the window as Kenneth did his best to drive like a normal civilian as a small burst of rain began to fall.

"That won't hurt our plans, will it?" Ali asked as raindrops hit his window.

"No. Just a little rain. As long as this thing still has tires, we're invincible." Eric replied, buckling his seat belt as the van stopped at an intersection.

Bruce was silent and just took slow breaths. He knew now wasn't the right time to strike. Eric would give him the signal and he would find the alarm. At least that was the way he had planned it.

* * *

"Here we are." Eric said with a sigh as the van stopped in the parking lot of the building.

Bruce looked up at the skyscraper and was amazed at the size and immensity of it. He saw the logo on the front of the building and saw it was the Parisan branch of Wayne Enterprises. His jaw dropped and he nearly smacked himself at his ignorance. How did he not know that his own company had branches located all over the world? He gulped slowly and Eric slightly flicked his left ear, bringing him back to the real world.

"Gary. Don't mess this up." Eric said sharply as Ali opened the door and led the way with the rest of the men following.

"I won't." Bruce replied, taking a pistol given to him and sticking it in his back holster.

The two of them ran out from the van and headed to the left side of the Wayne Enterprises building. Eric was prepared. He brought a pair of bolt clippers and saw the chain strapped to the fence that led to the company vehicle parking lot. Barbed wire was rolled across the top of the fence and Bruce looked around, seeing a camera twenty-feet up in a corner, overlooking the parking lot. Bruce tapped Eric's shoulder as he snapped the chain and Eric spotted the camera, nodding and giving a smirk.

"I got it." Eric said, taking a SMG paintball gun and aiming carefully, hitting the pellet right on the lens, covering it in dark blue paint.

Bruce took a deep breath as Eric quickly opened the gate and shoved Bruce inside before they ran fast, Eric sliding across the hood of a convertible, laughing quietly as they saw the custodian's back office door. He nodded his head in the direction of the door and Bruce returned the nod, following him as they sprinted to the door and took a quiet break until they heard the door begin to squeak open. The janitor cleared his throat and spoke to his partner as Bruce and Eric backed up against the wall, hidden in the shadow of the building.

"Etes-vous sûr que vous ne voulez pas une bière? Parlez maintenant ou rester soif, Ben." _Are you sure that you don't want a beer? Speak now or stay thirsty, Ben._

"Oui, Lucas, je vais bien. Juste apportez-moi un sac de croustilles ou de quelque chose." _Yes, Lucas, I'm fine. Just bring me a bag of chips or something._

As the janitor shut the door, Eric rushed behind him and put him in a headlock, waiting for him to pass out. Bruce watched the door and widened his eyes as he saw the second janitor approach the door window and fling it open. Bruce grabbed his hand before he could grab his radio and used the taser in his belt to shock him with a sharp jolt of pain; immediately sending him to the ground. Eric threw the guy to the ground and flipped out three pairs of handcuffs, tossing a pair to Bruce.

"Cuff one of his arms to the opposite leg. I've got a couple rags we can use for gags. These guys won't be able to contact anyone." Eric said, pulling a red hotel washcloth and stuffing it in Lucas' unconscious mouth.

Bruce spotted the washcloth and saw the name of the hotel on the side. He knew the rag was evidence. If the police were smart enough, they could track the rag back to the hotel and look through records, finding Eric and the rest of the crew leaving the hotel. He stopped himself from talking and shoved the washcloth inside Ben's mouth. After Eric had completely trapped Lucas, he kicked him in the stomach once before taking the keycard from Ben's breast pocket and scanning it across the keypad across from the heavy metal door.

"Let's go. The alarm is three rooms from the top floor. I'm going to silence the guards on the ground level and you head up. Use that pistol if any trouble happens. Not that we don't care about you... but if you or anyone else gets caught, it's your ass, got that?" Eric whispered as the door lock clicked open.

"Yep. I'll see you soon." Bruce said with a fake smile, sprinting through the janitors' office and seeing the staircase entrance a hallway from him.

_Here we go. This is it._ Bruce thought to himself as he began to ascend the staircase.

_I can't wait too long. These guys are smart and if I wait too long, they'll figure out that something ain't right. Shit... why didn't I plan this out better? What if I die? What if I go to jail? Wouldn't that be wonderful... Bruce Wayne Goes To Prison For Robbing Own Company. Oh, great._

He ascended the stairs quickly and quietly, feeling the sweat in his hand make the gun slippery. Two minutes later, he finally reached the 47th floor and opened the door, holding the pistol behind his back as he quietly walked across the hallway. Bruce sneaked around the rooms, seeing a few men and women still working, one man drinking a bottle of whiskey and a woman beside him yelling in cursing French. Bruce ducked below the window and understood her speech long enough to hear she heard a noise outside. Bruce went prone and quickly crawled on the floor as she opened the door. He barrel-rolled across the hallway and waited behind a wall, hearing her heels hit the tile floor and come closer. He held his breath and got out his taser, ready to shock her.

"What are you doing? I'm not done talking to you damn it!" the man inside the office yelled in broken English.

Bruce heard her turn around and slap the man in the face, slamming the door shut and yelling at the man. He couldn't resist but give a small chuckle and stood up, holding the gun tight and running across the hallway, remembering the blueprint layout and seeing the room number where the alarm box was located. He knew the alarm code. 5-42-92-27-00. He had repeated it multiple times on the way to the building out loud to give the impression that he was going to do it. This was his chance. If he could mess up the alarm box code, the building's security system would automatically call the police and they would arrive within one to three minutes. Now, Bruce had to plan his escape and never see the crew ever again. If they saw him and realized that he blew the entire heist, they would all try to kill him. And most likely, they would succeed.

"Here we go." Bruce said quietly, about to press the emergency button.

Before he could, he heard dozens of gunshots and heard a man scream two floors up. He looked upwards and heard more gunfire from outside. He ran to the nearest window and flew open the shades. He saw three helicopters outside and screamed in fear as one of the snipers spotted him with the searchlight and fired a round, shattering the window and scaring the arguing people in the room. He heard more gunfire traded with the helicopters' occupants and his crew. He ran to the staircase entrance and leaped back when Eric ran down and spotted the two people, shooting them both in the back.

"No! What are you doing?" Bruce yelled, punching Eric in the hand.

Eric gave Bruce a look and nodded to the staircase, talking as they ran up.

"Kenneth... goddamn Kenneth! He was a rat for the Scotland Yard! He killed Ali and nearly got me when I fired an entire mag at him. He's got help! But we can still get away with this! C'mon! Forget repelling down the window; Johnny's already in the office." Eric yelled, running to the top floor and preparing to fire as they both heard windows busting and men yelling.

Bruce heard lots of gunfire and he flinched, holding his gun tight and ready for the worst. Eric kicked open the door and fired three more rounds, hitting the body armor of an agent and making him grunt in pain. Five agents fired near them and Bruce ducked, hiding under a desk, watching ink from printers and bits of paper fly into the air as bullets hit the desk and surrounding area. He crawled underneath the firefight and saw Johnny firing a large machine gun, red-hot rounds hitting the floor and the sheer force of the gun vibrating the room. Bruce screamed in the chaos and panicked when Eric grabbed him by the collar, tossing him into the next hallway.

"Go! I've got them!" Johnny yelled to Eric as he killed six men, bullet rounds hitting the helicopter outside, Bruce seeing a few rounds hitting the pilot, blood shooting on the cockpit glass as the copter hit the building, the blades literally slicing a man in half.

Bruce and Eric ran down the hallway and he spotted the office room.

"What's in that safe exactly?" Bruce yelled through the violent gunfire.

"Aluminum, my friend! 400 mill worth!" Eric replied, stopping at the door and firing his gun twice at the lock, kicking the metal door open and hearing the alarm going off.

"What? The stuff cans are made out of? Are you serious?" Bruce yelled.

"Hell yeah! This group over in the East found a giant deposit of the stuff and the price has gone up. This cargo is pure aluminum, not the flattened shit they make cans out of." Eric explained as he tore all the books off the shelf behind the office computer, finding a lever and slamming it downward, watching the bookcase shift to the left.

Inside looked like a bank vault, a brightly lit room with cameras all around and a giant vault lock that guarded the safe.

"Back up!" Eric said, slamming a piece of explosive gel from a case in his back pocket and running the entrance of the vault, pressing a detonator app on his phone.

As the smoke cleared after an explosion, Johnny entered the office room, blood streaks across his body armor and a bloody wound across the left side of his face. He laughed in excitement and hurried into the vault, trying to grab a sheet of aluminum before turning to Eric.

"What is this? I thought this was about money?" Johnny asked, hearing Eric load another magazine into his pistol.

"It is. It's always about money." Eric said coldly before firing four bullets into Johnny's back, killing him nearly instantly.

The sheet of aluminum hit the vault floor and blood quickly covered it. Bruce's mouth dropped and he began to back up, watching Eric turn his head sideways and sniff unapologetically. He turned around and smiled at Bruce.

"What's wrong, Gary?" Eric asked.

"That's not my name. My name is Bruce Wayne. My family owns this building, Eric. I was trying to stop you but it looks like Kenneth beat me to it." Bruce revealed, stalling for time as he saw agents begin to enter the damaged room destroyed by Johnny.

This was how it was going to end. He would have to turn himself in and watch Eric go to jail. No matter what his motive was, Bruce would be convicted of armed robbery and assault. No matter how great the Waynes' lawyer was, Bruce would get jail time. It was all over.

"What? You're a rat too!" Eric stammered, pointing the gun at Bruce and aiming for his head.

Bruce held on tight to the gun and raised his arms, seeing the agents kick through the door and immediately start firing their machine guns at both of them through the glass office window. Bruce ducked and dodged gunfire from both Eric and the agents, darting down the hallway and heading down the stairs, watching two agents follow him. They fired their weapons and sparks flew in Bruce's direction, making him flinch. He leaped down five steps and flew into the wall, busting his nose and groaning in pain. He quickly got up and felt the sharp pain of a bullet as it shot through his left arm. He screamed in pain and tripped down an entire flight of stairs, feeling the two men tackle him and force his hands behind his back.

"You're under arrest, you bastard! Getting my men killed? I don't think so!" the man to the left said, punching Bruce in the head and feeling warm blood pouring down his head.

"Gary!" Bruce heard Eric yell.

"Shit." Bruce whimpered, elbowing both men and running down the flight of stairs, his gun airtight in his right hand.

He turned behind him and saw Eric shoot them both brutally with a newly-acquired machine gun. Blood shot on the wall and Bruce screamed, dodging bullets as he felt them whizz by his head.

"I hate rats!" Eric yelled, dropping the gun and jumping on top of Bruce; the both of them falling down the giant and painful flight of steps.

"Stop it!" Bruce yelled, punching Eric as hard as he could in the face, trying to pull him off of him.

"You ruined all of this! What was the point, Gary? Or should I say Bruce?" Eric yelled, standing up and slamming him against the wall, repeatedly kicking him in the stomach.

"I was trying to do the right thing!" Bruce yelled, clotheslining Eric and throwing him down the steps.

"Look where that got you!" Eric laughed, spitting blood in his face.

Bruce groaned and he choked Eric by grabbing his throat from behind, hearing Eric gasp for breath. Bruce punched him in the back and took his gun, whacking him in the back of the head with it. Eric was unconscious and fell down more steps while Bruce took the gun and watched as more agents began to pour down the staircase. He watched as the leader came down first and aimed his machine gun at his chest.

"Put your gun down!" the agent yelled through his ski mask.

Bruce narrowed his eyes and aimed the pistol to the agent's head. He heard the many agents coming down fast and the leader reaimed his rifle, giving him another warning. Bruce could feel the threat imposing on him and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he pulled the trigger. He didn't hear a gunshot and saw that the gun had jammed. He sighed in shock and jumped down the flight of stairs, the leading agent on his tail. He screamed in shock, anger, and confusion as he rushed out of the building, spotting a man on a speed bike and tackling him to the ground, getting on his bike before the man could recover and driving off into the night; a helicopter and two patrol cars right behind him.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. What was that? You tried to kill him!" Bruce said to himself as he drove towards a giant highway tunnel, the helicopter losing sight of the bike.

"Never again!" Bruce continued as he shook his head, driving off into the night.


	9. Taking A Life

***In these next chapters, time will skip around a lot but don't worry, things will be elaborated on throughout this entire story, not just the chapter specific to it. Ra's al Ghul's past WILL BE EXPLAINED so don't worry about the mystery surrounding him. **

**Also, expect this story to be a _little _bit longer than JUSTICE: BATMAN VS**** SUPERMAN, so around 40 chapters. Believe me, every chapter will be worth it, I promise. **

* * *

"I see that you have a code, Mr. Wayne." Ra's al Ghul said as Bruce told him the story of the heist as he sat in his chambers.

"Yes. I will not kill a human being. I just... I just can't allow myself to go down that path. I've seen too much death and the repercussions it brings." Bruce replied, scratching his head as Ra's walked around Bruce who was sitting in his chair.

"Do you realize it is near impossible to become one of the League without taking a life? How else can I know you're a trustworthy, loyal member who will get the objective accomplished?" Ra's asked.

"Listen," Bruce said with a sigh, rising from his seat and staring in Ra's' cold green eyes.

"You can trust me. I can better this world without killing anyone. Setting an example and spreading fear the right way has a bigger effect than simply leaving bloody bodies to spread your legacy. If you show mercy and compassion, it'll make the enemy weaker because our intentions wouldn't be clear. Do you understand where I'm coming from?" Bruce explained.

"Hm." Ra's replied simply, holding his chin up above his robe collar and closing his eyes for a moment.

Bruce knew when Ra's closed his eyes and stood in his calm posture, he was making a decision. But he couldn't tell if the decision would be a good one or not. Although he seemed like a friendly mentor to Bruce, he always felt uncomfortable when around him. Ra's was cold and calculated but that's what he had evolved into. After centuries of seeing war, greed, and power struggle, Bruce supposed there was no other way he could act. Ever since he had learned of Ra's and his secret immortality, he had wanted to hear the full story. Part of him still believed it, but a logical side in Bruce made him doubt him and the vastness of the League of Assassins.

"I respect your decision. You have great promise and I will do everything in my power not to corrupt it. You're doing well. I'll be in Russia for the next three weeks but just continue your training. I'm expecting great results when I return." Ra's said, shaking Bruce's hand as he left his quarters, about to board a plane two miles inland.

Bruce stood up and watched him leave.

_If I can survive three weeks..._

* * *

Bruce stood in the mirror and searched his face. His long hair had finally been cut off and his hair was now a short fade that left little bangs. He shaved the stumble on his chin and cheeks with a straight razor before rubbing his face with a cloth. He smelled the after-aroma of the shaving cream and it smelled of herbal mint. He nodded his head while looking at his reflection and checked his abs before leaving the cleaning quarters. His body was tone and he had an eight pack. Ever since Bruce was fifteen, he had played high-school football, took gymnastics with a private tutor at the Manor, and did yoga when possible. Luckily for him, yoga was a mandatory morning calisthenic.

"You done in there?" the rough-voiced Assassin asked as he peaked his head inside the door.

"Yes sir!" Bruce said with a firm voice, sprinting out of the cleaning quarters and standing before his designated officer.

"Now, you are aware that the Demon's Head will be returning tomorrow, correct?" the Assassin asked.

"Yes sir. I've been training harder than I've ever tried. He will be pleased, I'm sure." Bruce responded, walking with the Shadow to the beachfront where over twenty-five recruits were waiting.

"Good. Today... you'll need it." The Assassin said dryly before walking in front of the men and women.

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he stood with the rest of the crowd. They were all silent and waited for their leader to speak. He wore a dark blue ninja suit with a black that covered everything but his mouth. The League had taught all of them that by only showing the mouth, the enemy couldn't detect the emotions in someone's eyes, creating an aurora of mystery and unpredictability. The Shadows always carried two collapsible swords in their back holster and were experts unlike any fighting expert known to man.

"This is the Coast of Atazula. This coast has been used for over three centuries in the training of the League. It is here that you will learn the secrets of determination, bravery, and feeling pain unlike ever in your life." The Assassin said.

Bruce and the others looked at each other with worried eyes as the Assassin kept talking.

"You will take these boards. These boards are made of strong wood fibers and are impenetrable. But unlike these boards, _you_ are not invincible. You can be killed, you can be beaten. You will learn that with determination comes great sacrifice." The Assassin continued, handing a body-sized tan board to each of the League members.

"Those waves," The Assassin continued, pointing to the foamy coast.

Bruce saw the waves and was in fear. They were large and powerful. As the water hit the rocks all around, it made a noise almost equivalent to a grenade blast. He straightened his body and stretched his legs as they walked down in the sand. He saw giant bits of sand tumble up to the shore and drops of spray went all of them as the Assassin began talking again.

"Are the most dangerous, most fierce, and most relentless waves I've ever encountered. The current surrounding the island is very strong due to the amount of underwater springs and caves beneath the surface."

The Assassin made the League members stand with their backs to the ocean and he stood in front of them, staring at the sun as they waited for his instructions.

"Today, you will use these boards to protect yourself against the force of these waves. By placing your board into the ground, you'll have enough support to shield yourself from them. It is 3:00 in the afternoon and the waves are about to hit high tide. You will stay out in the waves until I say otherwise. Be strong and solemn." The Assassin said, gesturing for the men and women to go out in the waves.

As Bruce and the rest began to walk into the cold ocean spray, the Assassin gave one last statement.

"And if one of you goes down..." he said, tilting his head a bit.

"Let them drown."


	10. Let That Be A Warning

*** Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I was late on getting the chapters updated but my weekend was busy and I didn't have time to publish. I wrote a couple extra chapters that I SWEAR will be uploaded by the end of the week. Sorry, guys. I'll do better.**

* * *

Bruce winced at the cold water that circled around his ankles and covered the bottom of his wetsuit. He looked around at the other members of the League and saw that they were fighting to not show any emotion. Bruce tried to think about other things and desperately tried to make his teeth not chatter. As the water was to their neck and it began to recede, they all planted their boards in near-unison and prepared for the high tide. He heard two large men beside him and leaned in on their conversation as a giant wave could be seen rolling in the distance.

"Is he serious? Why the hell are we out here? What does this really prove?" the first man said with an Australian accent.

"I guess it shows who's the pussy and who's the soldier." the other man replied, Bruce detecting slight German in his voice.

"Hm. Seems about right." the Australian man laughed as cold spray shot in his face.

The German man nodded in agreement and looked at Bruce when he caught him looking at them.

"What do you think of all this, slugger?" he asked.

"Slugger?" Bruce asked, pushing his chin up as a calm wave leaped above their necks.

"Yeah, you and Biggs a couple weeks ago? Nice punches." the Australian man added in.

"Yeah, thanks." Bruce replied with a laugh.

The three of them all laughed quietly and were taken by surprise as the first wave slammed into them, barely any of the members ready. Bruce quickly went underwater and got a good snort of salt water before surfacing from the dark green water. He gasped as he breathed in salty air and stood up, slamming his board into the ground and watching the two men follow him.

"Holy-! That came out of nowhere!" the German man said.

"Ugh!" the Australian man said, throwing up sand and water as he positioned his board.

"I'm Bruce Daley." the German man said, holding his hand out as the members all watched for the next wave.

"My name's Bruce too. Bruce Wayne." Bruce replied, shaking his hand and the coughing man's.

"Carter Mitchell." the Australian man added in, shaking his head as he recovered.

The three of them watched as the next giant wave tried to suck them back, a weak man losing his footing and becoming lost in the foamy surf, his gurgling screams heard as his board flew above the waves. Bruce's eyes widened and he searched the top of the water for the skinny man. He saw a pale hand rise from the waves before another large one swallowed it, pushing the man further underneath, his nose scraping the sand. Carter grabbed his board with a free hand as the wave passed them and waited as Bruce and Daley continued to search for him.

"Where'd he go?" Carter asked, looking around his area of view.

"Bruce! Hold my board." Bruce said, handing his board to Daley as he prepared to dive under.

"You can't do that!" a black man yelled, swimming over to the three.

"Excuse me?" Daley asked rhetorically.

"The leader said we can't do anything!" the black man replied, getting in Daley's face.

Daley shook his head and felt the urge to punch the man in front of him.

"What if he was your brother or dad?" Carter added in.

The black man just looked at Carter and gasped as a wave bigger than the rest starting to crest twenty feet above them.

"Oh shit!" Carter yelled, watching as Bruce sliced through it.

Daley and Carter held their board in place as the wave hit them, the wave bouncing back and hitting Daley hard in the nose. Bruce winced at the sheer power of it and was sucked backwards as five more monster waves were quickly behind it. Before he could get pulled into the surf, he held onto a rock wedged in the muddy sand with one hand and was amazed that the water was only a foot deep as all the water was sucked back into the wave. He looked behind him and saw the unconscious man floating in the sea. He saw his new friends for a moment before jumping through the monster waves, the force hurting his chest. He struggled to see and started bleeding from his head when a small rock slammed into his forehead, creating a small wound that sliced through his short hair. He swam with all his might as he rose to the surface and struggled against the current to pick up the man. Bruce saw blood flowing from his mouth into a red mist in the green water.

Bruce gasped for air as he busted through the water and made sure the man's head was above as well. He widened his eyes as a giant piece of driftwood flew in front of him and he braced for impact. Before it hit, he heard the wood crack hard against something hard, and it wasn't Bruce or the injured man. He opened them as he kicked his legs back and forth to stay afloat and saw Daley in front of him, the driftwood now in many pieces.

"Thank you." Bruce said calmly as they drifted towards the shore.

Daley nodded with a smile, swimming over top of the waves as they ran up to the beach where the Assassin stood with his arms crossed.

"Sir! He nearly died. I know we weren't supposed to do anything but I couldn't help it. He was going to die!" Bruce said quickly, laying the near-unconscious man at his feet.

"Hm," the Shadow began.

"I gave you explicit instructions to stay out in the water until I said otherwise. As you heard, I'm sure... if any man or woman failed the test, _let them drown_." he continued, his voice growing deeper and darker as he spoke.

"I... I... know." Bruce said, catching his breath and worrying what would happen next.

Daley wiped the sea spray from his eyes and his heart was pounding. He looked at the Assassins's cold, green eyes and was speechless. Then, he began walking around the injured man.

"What does this disobedience tell me, Mr. Wayne?" he continued, looking at the injured man and Bruce.

"I don't know, sir. I'm sorry but..." Bruce began before being interrupted.

The Assassin flung a small dagger from the inside of his right wrist sleeve and stabbed it into the man's heart, instantly killing him as blood seeped from the exit wound in his back and made the dark sand turned black with blood. Bruce was speechless and was in so much shock he couldn't even flinch. Daley's jaw dropped and he quickly got himself together before the Assassin looked at the both of them.

"Let that be a warning..."

* * *

Bruce did a side-jump off the cinderblock wall in the Assassin Obstacle Course and avoided the blade as it swung above his head. His landed with his knees bent to prevent ankle damage and parried against Carter as they fought on the course. Carter watched Daley face off against five opponents and quickly get cut all over his arms and legs, surrendering as they didn't stop. Bruce shook his head and ducked as the real blade soared over his head.

Bruce landed on his back and rolled out of the way as a second man's blade hit the fake sand set up in the course. Bruce narrowed his eyes through his tactical hood and fought equally against Carter and the second man. He pricked Carter's neck with his blade and jumped off the same wall again, making the second man vulnerable. Bruce quickly delivered a karate kick to the back, making him fly into the wall at high-speed.

"That all you got, Wayney-boy?" Carter laughed as Bruce swung down his metal sword and knocked Carter's out of his hand.

"Yep." Bruce returned with a smirk.

Carter surrendered with a hand gesture and laughed as Bruce helped him up from the floor of the course.

Over the past two months, the three of them had learned over 300 different fighting techniques taken from warriors such as the Samurai, the ninja, medieval knight traditions, the Israeli Military Police, and the U.S. Navy Seals. They were deadly weapons of top condition. Ra's had helped Bruce understand the basics of deception as well, making Bruce chuckle at the thought of ancient warriors dressing up as animals like idiots with deadly fighting skills.

* * *

"Glue bombs? Are you serious?" Bruce asked as he held the makeshift pellet filled with a gel-like adhesive inside the ball.

"Yes. Very useful despite what you might think." Ra's replied as Bruce looked at it closely.

"How is this thing use-?" Bruce began before Ra's swiped the pellet from his hand at impossible speed and tossing it hard as Bruce's combat boots.

Bruce tried to jump away but the glue exploded, sticking into his soles and trapping his feet, making him fall to the wood floor hard, nearly busting his chin.

"Ugh... son of a..." Bruce said, rubbing his sore chin as he flipped his hood off of his head.

Bruce couldn't confirm it but he swore he heard Ra's give a slight chuckle.

* * *

"God, this is unbearable!" Daley yelled as a salty wave slammed into them and washed out two members.

Bruce shook his head and looked down the beach, watching all the men and women struggle to combat the waves, only able to pray they would stop. He looked behind him and saw the Shadow leader in his usual stance, carefully watching all the members. He saw The Demon's Head himself walk down the beach with a blood-red robe and a limp. He noticed that Ra's' hair was graying on the sides and his neck was covered in wrinkles. Bruce knew what he was doing. The Pit was calling his name. Bruce wondered if he too would enter the Pit eventually. He didn't want to think about it.


	11. Six Months Later

**six months ****later**

"Why'd you bring me down here, master?" Bruce asked Ra's as they stood in a secret room where he had never been.

"I trust you, Bruce. More than any of the others. You have become one of my greatest students." Ra's replied sincerely, holding Bruce shoulder with one hand.

Ra's was dressed in a tight spec ops outfit and it worried Bruce; not knowing what he may be involved in. Ra's carried two knives in holsters on opposite legs and a pistol holster was slung around his chest. His gear was covered in a light-weight bulletproof material and could stop a bullet an inch away. Bruce looked around the small room and saw several small candles aflame.

"Thank you," Bruce said with a bow.

"But what is the meaning of all this?" Bruce continued.

"You have gifts. Gifts that are of most importance, you see. Your courage is strong, your will is strong, and so is your mind. In battle, these are qualities we search for. You, Bruce, are a warrior." Ra's said, looking up at the ceiling.

Bruce stood solemn and straight as Ra's continued to talk.

"The League has been around for centuries and we have a certain responsibility to the world. We serve to protect it. No matter the cost or sacrifice. For more than half a year, you have been training with us and I've seen your potential. I want to become one of us. Now." Ra's said with a serious and honest tone.

"What? The training takes years, I thought?" Bruce said amazed.

Ra's gave a small smile and nodded his head.

"That is true. But throughout the centuries, a very few have been introduced to the organization early on. These men and women were like you... full of potential, brave like a warrior, and cunning as the world's greatest detective. These qualities are surprisingly rare in today's world and we don't waste any time in bringing them to the League. You are one of them, Bruce." he continued.

Bruce thought to himself and could barely hear himself think as his heartbeat rushed inside his head. This was really happening. Bruce would finally have done something of importance. As far as he could see, the League of Assassins was flawed like any peace-keeping organization but they were a long-shot from a corrupt office like the GCPD. He would travel the world, see different places and people while learning the skills he would need to eventually find the killer of his parents. This was the opportunity of a lifetime and Bruce was not going to waste it.

"I accept, master." Bruce replied with a bow.


	12. Airstrike

"Get the hell down, Rockett! Airstrike's coming in three minutes! Warn everyone!" Captain Joseph Roberts yelled as he dived in the cold trench hole.

He slammed into the mud and winced as a nearby grenade went off, rattiling his helmet. He looked over the top of the trench and saw the Russian soldiers firing without mercy, killing his platoon. He blind-fired his Beretta over the top of the trench and heard it bounce off armor as snow continued to fall. Captain Roberts and his men were stuck in an abandoned Russian town the U.S. Military had nicknamed "Shitshack Central". The Russian military had hired Croatian mercenaries to watched over a stored dormant nuclear warhead inside the sewer system of the old town and Roberts' platoon was sent to retrieve it.

"I'm on it, sir!" Corporal Trevor Rockett replied to his captain, saluting as he jumped over a bullet-riddled, rusted car and warned his men about the airstrike about to hit S. Central.

Roberts knew a bit of Croatian and listened in as the gunfire quieted down.

"Gospodine! Moramo ići sada! Možemo vatru od grebena do padne noć!" _Sir! We need to leave now! We can fire from the ridge until night falls! _

"Slušaj, sine, ne odlaze dok ne znam US ne ide nigdje. Pošalji šestoricu na bok s lijeve strane puno automobila." _Listen, son, we are not leaving until I know the U.S. isn't going anywhere. Send six men to flank from the left by the car lot._

Roberts got the basic idea and fired three more rounds from his pistol at the men before sliding over the hood of the rusted car and running to his men. They were all huddled behind a thick concrete wall and all breathed heavily as they waited for the airstrike. He checked his magazine and slammed it back in the gun, peeking over the wall and watching a chunk of brick fly off from a bullet and scratch a part of his left eye. He grunted as he flew back and began to hear the sounds of a distant aircraft. He slammed the wall in nervousness and slowly peeked out once again, becoming more worried as he saw a pure black helicopter and ten men dressed as ninjas swing down from the copter by cable.

"What is this?" Roberts said quietly to himself, seeing the dark blue figures all carrying swords and dressed in modern tactical gear in addition to the ninja outfits.

"Sir! What's going on?" a Marine asked as he saw Roberts' face.

"I don't know. Look for yourself." Roberts said quietly as he heard the ninjas and the mercenaries start to fight.

_What have I gotten myself_ _into? _Roberts asked himself.

* * *

Bruce swung his sword down fiercely and clanging it against the Croatian mercenary's AK-47. The man widened his eyes in amazement and ran at Bruce with a high-powered pistol, firing three bullets with every shot. Bruce jumped to the left and flicked his body off the brick wall to his left, landing on the man's back and hitting him with the back end of his sword. He swung it upright and dodged a mercenary who fired from the right, diving behind a broken-down car and hearing the bullets pierce through the thin metal.

The League had been investigating nuclear reports in the Russian area for three months now and Bruce jumped at the chance to join in a mission. He was now officially a member of the League and tried his best to act professional and smart as Ra's taught him things along the way. He had been with the master for nearly nine months now. He felt as if he was a part of a family. Despite the respect he received, he still felt distrust with some other members and disagreed with a few of their methods, which included brutal killing.

"Bruce, we need your help on the car lot. We have five-plus soldiers with a grenade launcher." one of the members said through the earpiece.

Bruce nodded to himself and watched the mercenary come near as he hopped over the hood, grabbing a face-full of the snow-ice mixture and slamming it into the man's face. Before he could shoot him, Bruce swung his sword and watched the man's right index finger fall to the ground. He grabbed the man and forced him to the ground, blood pumping from the wound. He grabbed the small portable torch from his back holster and turned up the gas, watching the blue flame burn the wound as the flesh and bone turned black. The man screamed in pain and tried to punch Bruce but missed. After making sure the wound was cauterized, he knocked the mercenary out and stuck the pouch back in his pouch before running to the parking lot.

* * *

Roberts fired his gun again as the mercenaries came near and watched as the man dropped as blood flew out from the left side of his neck and chin. He reloaded quickly before two Marines grabbed his shoulders, guiding him to a safe spot behind a rundown building. The men took their breath and reloaded their weapon as gunshots continued and the screaming didn't stop.

"Who are these freaks?" a Marine asked as he dropped his empty magazine.

"I don't know but I'm glad they're killing the bad guys." Corporal Rockett replied, checking the chamber on his Beretta.

"And are we sure they _aren't _the bad guys, Trevor?" the Marine replied.

"I don't care who they are, all I care about is that they are taking out the threat. They've only got swords and we've got guns anyway. We're safe." Rockett said.

"So did they." the Marine said, meaning the mercenaries.

* * *

Bruce kicked a soldier in the back and watched him fly into the car's windshield, cracking it with his head. Bruce dodged a rain of bullets that came from an assault rifle and he felt a bullet hit his blade, nearly knocking it from his hand. As he was getting hailed with bullets, he watched the Demon's Head emerge from a corner, screaming with adrenaline as he jumped completely over the car and stabbed the man, the blade going all the way through his throat. As he pulled back, blood poured down to the ground and Ra's made a hysterical hissing sound as his victim plopped to the ground.

Bruce stood up and ran saw a man run behind Ra's and shoot him three times in the back with a pistol. Bruce didn't even hear his master make a noise as Ra's swung his sword behind him and sliced the man's body armor, leaving a gash in his jacket. Ra's looked around and saw two more men coming as the inured mercenary began to shoot again. Bruce actually saw him deflect a bullet with the sword and whipped the sword across his face, leaving a deep cut in his left cheek. Ra's stabbed through his stomach and kicked his body away from himself as the men began to circle Ra's.

Bruce jumped in the middle of the fight and punched one of the men in the temple, knocking him out instantly. Bruce swung his sword in the middle of the man's carbine machine gun and watched sparks fly as he fought against the man. He heard Ra's fighting with the other man and Bruce grabbed the gun, desperately trying to avoid bullets as the mercenary pulled the trigger.

"Tko su ti ljudi?" _Who are you?__  
_

Before Bruce could respond, he headbutted the man and watch blood fly out from his nose. After watching him fall to the ground, he saw the dead body of Ra's fight fly into the wall beside Bruce. Before Bruce could say otherwise, Ra's coldly stabbed the unconscious man in the throat, letting him bleed out. He kept his mouth shut and just let Ra's kill Bruce's victims. He shook his head and aired out his mask from the sweat pouring down. He watched the other members killing the mercenaries with violent precision and cold emotion.

"Bruce, we need to get out of here." Ra's said quietly.

"I know, these Marines are going to get scared quick." Bruce replied.

"No, the Americans have called for an airstrike to wipe out the area. We need to get the nuclear device out of here or this entire section of Russia will be an inhabitable zone for decades." Ra's replied, sprinting as Bruce was quickly behind him.

"Master, we have located the missile and are preparing for mobile transport as we speak." a Shadow said through the comm-link as Ra's slid his bloody sword back in its holster.

"Excellent. Me and Unit 1020 are approaching the area. ETA, 30 seconds." Ra's replied, clicking the earpiece as they crossed the trench holes where the Marines were waiting.

"Bruce. Take this. Shoot them all." Ra's said to Bruce, tossing him a small pistol.

"Wait. You know I can't-." Bruce began.

"Don't worry, they only contain tranquilizer injection fluid that will enable them unconscious for three hours. They will be safe from the airstrike." Ra's replied.

Bruce nodded and ran to the trenches as Ra's ran towards the entrance to the sewers.

He slid in the hole and prepared to shoot the Marines in the neck. He saw the leading officer and he pointed a military pistol to his head. Before Bruce could even move, six of the men cornered him and all aimed their weapons at him.

"Who are you and why are you doing this?" the officer asked, walking close to Bruce as a Marine tore off his mask.

* * *

Roberts was nervous. He could hear the airplane approaching and he could hear the many ninjas running to take the nuclear warhead, probably for themselves. He waited for the unmasked ninja to speak until he recognized his face.

"Wait," Rockett said, seemingly reading his mind.

"I know you! You're that rich kid from... Gotham!" he continued, pointing his finger at the ninja's head.

"I don't know what you're taking about..." the ninja said, speaking with a thick English accent.

"No..." Rockett began.

"Alright! Who gives a shit if he's a playboy or not, he just tried to kill us!" a Marine said.

* * *

While the men argued, Bruce checked the ingredients on the poison container label and became angry. The injected liquid contained Conium maculatum, commonly known as Hemlock, a plant that's seeds could be used for poison. It could be ingested but Ra's must've been a gifted chemist because he could use it in a liquified form. The Hemlock poison could affect the respiratory muscles and could stop breathing completely, causing a slow and painful death. Ra's was going to let these men die just so the League stayed silent and under wraps.

"Hold on!" Bruce yelled, making the men shut up.

He slowly backed up as the men looked at him and Bruce heard the plane coming close. He reached behind his back and pulled out two smoke pellets. Before the men could see what he was doing, he slammed the pellets down and watched the smoke spread out quickly, blinding the men as Bruce leaped away from the scene, climbing from the trench hole and running to the building where the sewer entrance was. He watched as the airplane dropped two small missiles and heard them hit the ground, two giant orange explosions rocked the surface and Bruce nearly tripped as he jumped in the building.

_Is this really what I want?_


	13. Arena

*** For all of you who are worried the origin stuff is going on too long, don't worry... this amount of detail in the backstory is needed to show how Bruce changes throughout his training with the League. Just remember, things have to get pretty bad before his inevitable exit from the League. How's that for foreshadowing?**

* * *

"And I heard they carried a nuclear warhead across the ocean until they got back here. Bruce actually ran from a military airstrike too." Daley told a few recruits as him and Carter bragged about their friend.

Carter and Daley had worked hard to join the League as they had only seen Bruce twice. He wasn't able to tell them how he was accepted early but he promise to talk to Ra's about them joining as well. Bruce knew they were capable but he didn't want to let them become as dangerous and void of emotion like the other Shadows. He didn't want them to become killers and gain that reputation, even if the League of Shadows only killed "bad people", everyone deserved to live.

* * *

**two months later**

"You see, Bruce, your country has been influenced greatly by the League. We have been inserting members into Congress and these recognizable men have even gotten as far as the White House." Ra's said as a poster board show profile pictures of noticeable men from Washington D.C.

Bruce was shocked to see dozens of men he remembered being in the Senate and Congress and could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the previous president on the board. It kind of worried Bruce. The League had been injected this far into the world. They influenced how it worked and the way it continued. So what did that mean for wars? Were they just created to further the goals of the League and their supposed plan of peace? It made Bruce sick to his stomach and he nearly passed out in the library. Ra's noticed his queasiness and waited for it to pass over.

"Let's move on. There's much more to show you." Ra's said, wanting to leave the room before Bruce became too upset.

* * *

"You can fight against it! With your mind! Convert the pain into a calm force of energy!" Ra's yelled into the arena as three Shadows pinned Bruce down and beat him mercilessly with whips.

Bruce could only grunt as he tried his best to block out the pain as he felt one Assassin's whip cut into his skin, tearing the flesh on his stomach. He kicked the dirt that covered the floor of the arena and ran to the shield located twenty-feet away. An Assassin cracked the whip against his right thigh and he fell hard to the ground. He tried his best not to scream in pain and faced the men. As one of the Assassins tried to crack the whip again, Bruce held his left forearm out, letting it wrap around, Bruce finally letting the pain flow from his brain. He pulled hard and watched the man trip towards him. Bruce grabbed his mask and pulled it off, kicking him behind his knees and elbowing him in the stomach. He felt the leather whip crack against his back and felt the flesh stretch apart from his back. He gritted his teeth and shook his head, feeling the pain slip away once again.

"C'mon!" he said in a taunting attitude.

The Assassins ran at Bruce and he picked up a lone sword in the arena. The arena was shaped like the Roman Coliseum except it was buried in the floor and the watchers saw from seats above. The ground was covered with sand from the desert outside the temple. This training center was located in the Sahara Desert and was habitable by an oasis deep beneath the sand. The training center had been there since Ra's was Bruce's age, hundreds of years ago. The past two weeks had been the toughest of Bruce's life. He had been waterboarded, put under Chinese water torture, and had brave electro-shock therapy. Ra's had made it clear that he wanted his pupils to be able to pass any test their enemies might gives. Through Tibetan monk techniques, Bruce had learned how to fall asleep on command, stay conscious while being medically dead as scanners couldn't find a heartbeat, and how to achieve nirvana through a form of yoga-like excercise.

He dodged a whip and blocked an Assassin's blade as he pushed his sword upwards, rolling on the sand as he felt the blade stab into the ground. He kicked sand up in the face of one of the Assassins and kicked his throat when he heard him scream in pain. Bruce felt a large arm come around his neck in a headlock and he tried to break free, feeling his shirt collar stuck to the man. He knew his face was turning blue as the man crushed his throat and Bruce jumped upwards as a Shadow came near him with a sword, stabbing the man choking him. The man didn't even flinch as the man's stomach bled furiously and Bruce kicked his knees to no avail.

_C'mon. C'mon, think!_

He felt his vision go blurry as the man growled in crazed anger. Bruce took his own sword and sliced his thin white shirt down the middle, a small cut going down his chest. He ignored the pain as blood began to swell at the surface and ripped his shirt apart, giving him enough strength to break off the collar and free himself from the man's grip. The man screamed as Bruce dropped and the man took the sword from his back holster and ran at Bruce. The man was nearly seven feet tall and probably weighed 320 if Bruce's estimates were correct. Bruce picked up his sword and ran from the man as two more Shadows came at him. He swung it hard and pushed a woman warrior back while the other man kicked Bruce in the face, with blood immediately flowing from its broken bone. Bruce cracked his neck and with two hands battled against the two Shadows. He cut the woman's left hand and watched blood soak through her black gloves while she kicked his shirtless chest, making him fall into the painful sand on his back. He grunted in pain and stood up, barely able to hold his sword.

He watched as Ra's stood from high above, sticking his chin up high as he watched Bruce get absolutely tortured below. Bruce felt blood run down his mouth and he wiped it away, the blood smearing on his hand. He stood his ground as the three Shadows ran after him with brute force, the woman nearly dislocating his arm from the blows she delivered with her blade. Bruce backed up and punched her in the stomach, grabbing her ponytail and tossing her into the second man.

_There's no such thing as playing fair when your life's in danger._

The big man came at Bruce quickly, kicking up sand as he slammed his sword down, Bruce's barely tipping it as he rolled into the sand. Bruce turned quickly and sliced the man's arm, blood spurting from the deep cut. Bruce nearly gasped at the cut but knew he hadn't killed him.

_I nearly cut the radial artery. That was close. A lot of blood will flow but he'll just pass out. That stab to the stomach is another thing though. He'll probably go into shock. _

The giant man tried to punch Bruce but he dodged it, the man's blood covering Bruce's he could wipe it off, the second man kicked Bruce in the back and he nearly fell to the ground. Bruce used the back-end of the sword and smacked him in the face. As the man fell, he cracked the whip against Bruce head, creating a wound that cut through his head, blood soaking his short, dark hair. As he screamed in pain, the man cracked the whip and it wrapped around Bruce's right leg. He fell to the ground and Bruce dropped his sword as the man pulled him back. The woman grabbed his sword and used both of them as she attempted to slit his throat. He grabbed the man's hand and twisted it completely backwards, hearing and feeling the bones crack in his wrist. He jerked the whip away from him and quickly unwrapped it against his leg, quickly whipping it around the woman's hips and jerking her forward, letting her slam against the stone wall behind them. The Assassin on the ground got up and jumped on his back. He knew the Shadow would break his neck so he jumped backwards, flying high in the air and landing back first, the Shadow getting all the force. Bruce felt his broken tibia bone stab through his skin and slightly pierce Bruce's back.

"You ready to die for the League?" the big man said in broken English as the woman got up with the two swords.

"Catch me if you can." Bruce replied quietly, taking the injured man's sword and cutting the man's chest.

The man yelled as blood poured from all over and the woman ran ahead, attempting to kill Bruce. This wasn't training anymore, they wanted Bruce dead. He ran to the center of the arena and waited for the two of them. The two Assassins circled him and they both traded blows with him as Bruce struggled to stand. He swung the sword with all his might and knocked one out of the woman's hand, making her grunt. He sucker-punched her in the face and watched her fall to the ground. He faced the big man and watched him pick up the woman's swords, swinging them like an expert in his hands. Bruce narrowed his bruised eyes and wiped blood from his face once more as the man came closer. He looked above and saw the dozens of League members watching and waiting for the outcome of their fight.

"Let's go!" Bruce yelled, spitting out blood from his mouth.

The giant man screamed in anger and swung the swords against his, sparks flying for a moment as Bruce was forced to his knees. He deflected a blow with one hand and kicked him in the legs, trying to take him out. The man wouldn't resist and kept delivering blow after blow while Ra's raised an eyebrow. Bruce barrel-rolled out of the way and watched the man's left sword stab into the sand, bits of sand flying up as it was stuck. Bruce looked in the man's belt and saw a pack of ninja stars that the League had inherited from the Samurai warriors. He quickly ran behind him and grabbed the pack, taking it while the giant swung the right sword in his direction. He flung two at his head and heard them painfully stick to the skin inside his ninja hood. Bruce didn't wait for the man to react and flung two more at his chest, kicking the edge of one and letting it create a large cut up his chest. Bruce dropped the sword and put both his arms behind the man's neck, pulling back hard. The man struggled to grab Bruce but he kept moving his head out of the way as he forced the man to the ground, pushing his knee into the back of his spine, feeling the bones grinding against his kneecap. The man started tapping the ground in surrender but an overcoming force of rage overcame Bruce and he didn't resist. He kept pulling and pulling, drilling his knee into his back even harder.

"Please!" he heard the man gasp as he slapped Bruce's back with his hand.

Bruce growled briefly and pulled back harder, hearing the man struggling to breath and feeling vomit ride up and get stuck in his throat. Bruce began moving his arms back and forth, hearing the man gasp for air as Bruce screamed in rage. He wanted to kill this man. After all he had been through, maybe killing would solve his problem. This crazy piece of shit was doing no good being in the League. He would only end up causing the League trouble and would probably end up in the failure of a mission. Killing the innocents wasn't right but maybe it was justified and needed in order to take out those who deserved to die. Acceptable losses.

"Die..." Bruce heard himself say.

As he said that, he saw all the watching League members stand up from their seats and watch the two of them. As he felt the life being strangled out of the man, his body began to shake and he knew what he was doing wasn't right. This was all a show. To them, a life wasn't valued like it was to Bruce. Against all his intentions, he let go of the man at his last breath and watched him fall face first into the sand. He flipped him over with his foot so he wouldn't suffocate and walked away from the arena silently, watching as two Assassins opened the arena door for him and Ra's was there with a robe and a first-aid kit.

"What happened, Bruce?" he asked in a concerned tone.

"I almost let go... of who I am." Bruce said as he shook his head.

Ra's walked with him as he applied a medical ointment to his whip cut on the top of his head.

"You know what's even crazier?" Bruce said with a disappointing laugh.

"What?" Ra's said as he prepared a bandage.

"Today's my birthday."


	14. The Demon's Head

**two weeks later**

"I've had enough. I can't do this, Ra's." Bruce said as he walked out of the Sahara temple.

"Bruce, please. You aren't thinking rationally." Ra's replied, holding Bruce's shoulder as he was about to open the door.

"No. For once in a year, I am." Bruce said.

Ra's gave a stern look at Bruce and let him open the door, the hot desert breeze blowing inside. Bruce looked back and saw a threatening look on his face.

"You can't just leave, Bruce." Ra's said quietly.

"Is that a threat?" Bruce replied, slamming the door shut, the sound echoing throughout the temple.

"No. But we need you." Ra's said.

"You've taught me some valuable things and I'm grateful. But I cannot kill another person. I know that if I become that type of person, it'll change me forever. I'll have lost my soul, Ra's. I'm barely hanging on as it is." Bruce explained to Ra's.

"I know what you're trying to do. And you won't succeed without the League." Ra's said, sticking his head up.

Bruce raised an eyebrow and grabbed the large doorknob again.

"You want to find your parents' killer. Am I correct?"

"And how will my involvement help with that justice? How could becoming a killer help me hunt down one? I'm supposed to be the exact opposite."

"I will teach you how to become a better detective. How to _really _search for evidence, how to survey a scene and know exactly what happened. You can become a protector of the weak, Bruce. Be something and not an everyday asshole who feels sorry for himself because he hates who he is." Ra's said with a stern tone.

Bruce was silent and he stared at Ra's. This was Bruce's big opportunity. Against all of his will, Bruce turned around and faced Ra's.

"Teach me."

* * *

**four months later**

"Please continue. I can analyze the pollen and hear your life story at the same time, master." Bruce said as he looked at a pollen particle through a high-powered microscope.

Bruce and Ra's al Ghul were in a room that looked similar to an American crime lab. Bruce was currently studying plant cells and discovering that most unsolved crimes could solved by searching the pollen found on evidence. Pollen was on everything and with the proper training, an investigator could be able to locate the location of the criminal by identifying the pollen in that area. While Bruce was studying and seeing the differences between Middle-Eastern pollen samples, Ra's al Ghul was finally telling Bruce the entire story behind his past. He had revealed that his father was an evil ruler who controlled most of the African continent nearly a thousand years before.

"Also, you told me you estimated you were six hundred years old. Not a thousand." Bruce added in before letting Ra's speak.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure how long I've been here. I know I am at least nine-hundred and some because there are some rare records that indicate my father ruling more than a thousand years ago. He had used the Pit before I... inherited it so he could be much older." Ra's said.

Bruce nodded as Ra's continued.

"But my father was the essence of evil. He had no regard for anyone, his men, his wives, even his children. I don't know his name but that he was known as the Devil Himself. I've always been a very spiritual man and I have good reason to believe that maybe... he wasn't entirely human. Something demonic and otherworldly. I remember the day he changed everything for me very clearly." he continued.

* * *

The boy ran through his village and avoided a fiery ball as it crashed into his uncle's home, instantly killing the family inside. Tears streamed down his face and he felt splinters of wood hit his light olive skin as blood poured from his wounds. He was trying to find his mother. He ran past people running with their families as more fire balls flew from the sky and collided into the ground below. He saw his house in the distance and coughed as smoke began to rise. He saw the giant mountain that shielded the valley where he lived and saw thousands of soldiers on horseback, a man resembling his father in the distance. His mother had told him about him. He was a ruthless warrior who had raped his mother and married two of his own sisters to produce a sensible heir. All the children were unacceptable in his eyes and he cut all their heads off. The boy considered himself a man. He was fifteen years old and could handle a sword well. He ran to his house as another fireball hit and he saw his mother holding his little sister.

"Mother! It is my father's army! Why is he here?" the boy cried.

"I don't know, my son. Please stay inside!" his mother replied, grabbing his arm as he grabbed his homemade sword.

"I will, mother. I will protect-." the boy began before a large fire ball collided into the side of the house, knocking all of them unconscious.

**one hour later**

The boy flicked his eyes open and saw fire all around him. When his mother screamed again, he realized that was the sound that woke him up. The boy grabbed his sword and attempted to help his mother before a Devil Himself soldier grabbed his hair and jerked him backwards, crashing into a pile of broken bricks. He noticed now that his entire left arm was covered in one horrific burn and he groaned in pain as he tried to get up. He saw two more soldiers walk over the wreckage in their now-destroyed house.

"I'll have her. You want the little one?" he heard one of the soldiers say as he pulled his pants down and ripped the boy's mother's dress, making her bottom torso naked.

The boy heard them laugh as they took their sick turns with his mother who was powerless against the men. A tear streamed down the boy's face and he gripped the sword's handle so tight, blood poured from his oozing burn wound. He began to get up and widened his eyes when he saw one of the men pick up his little eight-year-old sister and pull her pants down, bending her over the side of the broken wall and the soldier holding her still. He slowly and quietly got up as he heard his mother's and sister's cries.

"No!" the boy cried with all his might, jumping up and swinging the large sword at the man raping his sister, cutting his head off completely.

Blood poured from the neck wound like a waterfall and he stabbed the dead body twice in the genitals and watched as the two other soldiers stopped raping his mother and quickly pulled up their pants with their swords drawn. The boy screamed loudly again and ran at the men, avoiding one's swing and stabbing the sword into his foot, tripping him and slicing off two toes. The man fell hard against the burning, hot rubble and the boy jumped on the other man's chest, ripping his left ear off and gauging his eyes out with his fingers. The boy cried in anger as he took the sword from the other man's foot and slamming it into the man's chest, twisting the blade around pushing the man backwards as the other man limped towards him. The boy face him and grabbed a large piece of rubble, slamming into the man's head and knocking him to the ground. The boy turned the rubble piece sideways and swung it into the man's face multiple times, crying loudly with each bloody smash. As he face became distorted and broken in, the boy threw the brick into the wall and screamed to the smoke-filled sky, picking up his injured sister and running to his mother.

"Mother! Mother! I stopped them!" he screamed, picking up his mother's head and holding it as tears rushed down her eyes.

"I know. I'm so proud of you, my son." his mother said, nodding her head as she held his and his sister's hand.

Before he could smile, he felt a large hand grab his sister and he turned around, seeing over fifty men around his village, running around and grabbing the women and children while killing all the adult men. He saw his father in the middle, dressed in traditional Persian warrior garb. The boy stood up and saw his father smile and grab his mother by her hair, tossing her into the custody of five men while kissing his young daughter on the lips, smiling as he handed her into the custody of his other men.

"You. I'll kill you one day." the boy said with malice in his heart.

"Hm." his father laughed.

"I shall wait for that day."

* * *

"After that horrible day, I waited years and years to find him. I was thirty-four the day I finally found of his location. During those years, I had organized a small rebellion of my own. We had all had our lives destroyed by the Devil Himself and we strived to finally get justice. I received my name, the Demon's Head after I decided that if I wasn't exactly like my father, I was the next worst thing." Ra's explained as Bruce prepared a slide of a different strain of pollen.

"What happened to him?" Bruce asked, taking a break from his pollen investigation.

"Hm." Ra's said, pausing for a moment.

"Me and my group of ten broke into his mansion located deep within the wilderness of my country and we burned the fortress down. With him inside. The Devil Himself was no more." he continued.

"That's it?" Bruce asked.

"Yes. I'll return shortly. Keep studying."

Ra's walked out of the room and walked down the hallway of the Saharan temple. As he walked to his quarters for a short rest, he thought about the past and closed his eyes as he remembered what really happened on his father's last day.

* * *

"Are you ready, sir?" one of the Demon's Head soldiers asked as they held the fuse to the explosive.

Ra's al Ghul nodded his head as he saw the fuse attached to the front door of his father's mansion. He looked around and saw the dozens of bodies that laid around from the carnage his men and women had caused. He smiled with pride. Finally, he had done something worthwhile.

"Yes. Kill them all when they come out. No matter what they say or do." Ra's said with emotion as he let his assistant light the fuse.

He watched as the fuse was turned orange and he saw it snake around the ground and stop when it hit a fusebox twenty-feet away. Ra's ducked behind a tree and watched as the explosion created a thirty-foot hole in the entrance and leaving dead bodies everywhere in the rubble. Immediately, Ra's and his team ran inside the mansion with their warrior armor and branded swords. They started killing all the Devil Himself's extended family and his guards, blood flying and screams echoing throughout the giant house. Ra's killed two guards after cutting their jugular and stabbing their hearts with brute force. He kicked a boy over the edge of the railing and heard him painfully hit the hard floor moments later. He searched every room for five minutes as his team killed everyone who tried to escape. He saw smoke rising as he crossed another hallway and saw that the house was starting to catch fire.

"Die!" Ra's screamed as he swung his sword and sliced through a guard's chest.

Blood shot all over his and he didn't even wipe it as he slit his throat, letting him painfully bleed out. He kicked open every door on the second floor and finally smiled in anger as he found the master bedroom, finding his father, looking as young as Ra's was, despite being three times his age when he last saw him. Ra's ignored it and ran towards him in his bed. As the sword flew to his head, the Devil Himself flipped away from the bed and Ra's could see that he was fully dressed. He was ready for him. Ra's cracked his neck and faced his father as he drew two small daggers from each side of his leather belt.

"I must say for once, I am proud of my bloodline." the Devil Himself said with a laugh, circling his son.

"I disagree!" Ra's yelled, immediately fighting his father, sparks flying as their blades connected brutally.

Ra's blocked one of the daggers with his set of gauntlet and he shoved his father back, punching him hard in the nose. The Devil Himself ducked as Ra's swung his sword over his head and jumped off his bed, the blade slicing through the feather mattress. Ra's spit in his father's face and headbutted him while stabbing his right shoulder hard. Blood began to pour from his leather shirt and the Devil Himself growled. Ra's slammed his sword against his father's right dagger and nearly knocked it from his hand. The Devil Himself stabbed Ra's in the chest and he ignored it, dropping his blade and tackling his father, punching and kicking him repeatedly.

"Tell me something," Ra's asked while breaking his father's nose.

"What became of my mother and sister?"

"Heh." his father laughed.

Ra's yelled and took a dagger, scratching his father's blade with it and forcing him backwards.

"I killed your mother because she couldn't produce a child and your loving sister could only have girls. I gave her to my best guards." the Devil Himself said calmly.

Ra's stared at his father and screamed in anger, stabbing him twice in the right tight and loving the sound as his fathers flesh was ripped by the sharp blade. His father gritted his teeth and shoved Ra's back, leaving him unarmed.

"What? I said they were my best guards!" the Devil Himself laughed.

"Die, you bastard!" Ra's yelled, grabbing his father by the throat and kneeing him in the chin, blocking a kick by him and throwing him out the bedroom door, into the inferno that was swallowing the mansion.

The Devil Himself felt the blood quickly leaving his body and Ra's didn't relish in his victory, repeatedly stabbing him all over and slicing off small bits of skin.

"You burnt my house down and killed my family. Me and my clan will do the same to yours." Ra's said as he picked his father up, tossing him over the railing and hearing his spine snap as he hit the cold floor.

The Devil Himself saw his dead young son on the floor next to him and began to whimper. He didn't think Ra's would stumble that low. Ra's smiled and jumped off the railing, landing on the dead boy's body. He picked him up and held his lifeless face in front of the Devil Himself's.

"How does that feel? Seeing the people you love... dead?" Ra's said, his voice hitting a darker tone than ever before.

"No... no..." his father said, shaking his head as he could barely move, watching the fire begin to swallow him up.

Ra's kneeled beside his dying father and laughed as he slowly cut off the skin on his arm, matching Ra's' scar. He laughed in mania and watched as the flames licked at his face and he tried to move away.

"Just remember when you're burning in hell..." Ra's said as he left the fortress, yelling over the roaring of the flames as the ceiling tile began to fall.

"That I... The Demon's Head... sent you there."

**ten minutes later**

While Ra's al Ghul enjoyed the painful screams of his father as he was burnt to ashes, he was interrupted by his assistant who ran over as the sun began to rise and bowed before him.

"What is it?" Ra's asked.

"We are not sure, master. It seems to be... some sort of pit..." the assistant said, unsure of himself.


	15. I'm Second-In-Command

**seven months later**

"I'm glad you two got in. I know it was hard for you." Bruce said to Carter and Daley as they approached him after Bruce had taken a walk around the new camp, located in the Chinese wilderness.

"Yeah. We made sure we were the ones for the job. We're actually guarding The Demon's Head during his trips to America. He's leaving next week."

"Really? He hadn't told me anything." Bruce said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sure he'll tell you when the rest of us get briefed." Daley said.

"Just let me know what's going on, guys. Is it something serious?" Bruce said, growing concerned.

Carter let out a sigh and scratched his head.

"We were ordered not to tell you." Carter said.

"What do you mean? I'm second-in-command basically. Just tell me. I'm getting worried." Bruce replied, crossing his arms and leaning against a giant tree as they looked around.

"Is it that bad? What the hell is happening?" Bruce continued, watching their nervous actions.

"I'm going to tell you, but you _cannot_ tell anyone else. Okay? We aren't authorized to brief you, Bruce." Carter said.

Bruce inched closer as Carter talked to him.

"We are going a mission to... take out a country. A country that is dangerous to the League and one that hinders its further development. I'm sorry Bruce... but it needs to be done." Carter said.

"The League is taking out an entire country? No!" Bruce said, his voice getting louder.

"Be quiet and listen!" Daley said, putting a hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"And, Bruce... that country is America."


	16. Prodigal Son

**one hour later**

"So, by increasing sensitivity to the compound, I can change the lethality of the poison?" Bruce asked Ra's as he prepared a syringe on his small glass slide.

"Yes. The cells can change their aggressiveness by adding more electrons to their makeup. Literally, you can choose if the poison you are giving can kill or simply incapacitate the victim." Ra's said, handing Bruce a beaker as he operated on the poison compound."

"Like the poison you were going to make me give those soldiers in Russia?" Bruce said quietly, not turning his head as he continued to look through the microscope.

Ra's turned his head and gave him a glare.

"What are you saying?"

"What do you think I'm saying?" Bruce responded.

Ra's turned off Bruce's microscope and looked at him. Bruce turned around in his chair and took off the safety goggles, crossing his arms as Ra's faced him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." he said.

"Don't. My training has taught me to tell when someone is lying and guess what, Ra's. You are." Bruce said, his voice growing deeper.

Ra's sighed and bowed his head.

"Tell me why we had to kill those men. And where did that warhead go? I know you didn't destroy it and nobody would tell me a thing. What are we planning to do with it?" Bruce asked.

"It's just a precaution." Ra's said after a pause.

"Okay, fine. I'll accept that but why did you want those Marines dead? What did they do wrong? It's not like they were a threat to us! Who would believe them?" Bruce replied, slamming the lab table.

"This is something you have to trust me on. Those men were a liability and I didn't want to take the risk. You did the right thing by killing them." Ra's said.

Bruce stood up and took off his lab coat, rubbing his unshaven chin.

"I didn't kill them. Once I figured out it was poison, I made sure they were safe and left with the League. I told you I wouldn't kill. Why is it such an important asset for the League? Why do I _have _to kill?" Bruce said, his voice growing louder as he was face-to-face with his master.

Ra's gave a slight tick of his mouth and began walking out of the room.

"I know you going to use that warhead on the U.S." Bruce said quietly.

Ra's turned around and walked with sinister finesse and turning his head slightly.

"Who told you?" he asked.

"Oh... I see. You weren't planning on telling me until it was too late, am I right?"

"Bruce." Ra's said, lowering his head and beginning to sweat.

"Who... told... you?" he continued, speaking slowly as he tried to remain calm.

"That's not important, Ra's. Now... I need you to tell me exactly why you want to destroy America. And why is it such a _threat_ to the League? Hm?" Bruce replied.

Ra's' neck cracked and he grabbed Bruce's shoulder sharply, making Bruce grunt in pain.

"Get your hand off me." Bruce said, twisting Ra's' arm backward and walking towards the door.

Before Bruce got to the door, he felt Ra's moving behind him and turned around swiftly, facing Ra's as he prepared a strike to the neck with his left arm. Bruce gritted his teeth and headbutted Ra's, grabbing his Adam's Apple and holding him against the wall.

"Call off the strike now!" Bruce yelled as he choke Ra's.

Ra's only smiled and clasped his hands against Bruce's ears, not giving him a second after he let go, Ra's twisting Bruce's arms backward and throwing him into the lab table, his back busted the glass slides and crushing the microscope. Bruce grunted in pain and jumped on Ra's back, pinching a pressure point at his shoulder. Ra's didn't even react, turning around and elbowing Bruce in the nose, blood pouring onto his grey shirt. He cried in pain when Ra's executed a jujitsu tiger punch into the side of his chest, making him fall to the ground. He kicked Bruce in the torso, sliding him into the metal table, denting the bottom of it.

"Why must you be so ignorant, Bruce. Why can you just accept that maybe... change is needed in order for peace. I trusted you, treated you like a son, made you one of my own. And how do you return the favor? By betraying me and everything the League stands for." Ra's said, leaning down to Bruce as he struggled to remain conscious.

"Ra's! Stop this!" Bruce said weakly as he walked to the door and held up his radio.

"Bring the two men recently assigned to me. Mitchell and Daley." Ra's said quietly into the radio.

"No..." Bruce cried with a painful breath,

"Do not get up, Bruce. I will kill you." Ra's commanded.

Two minutes later, one Assassin led Carter and Daley into the room and Bruce stayed quiet in the darkness as Ra's had a happy look on his face.

"Master." Carter said with a bow.

"Hello, Master. How can we be of service?" Daley said, bowing to the Demon's Head as well.

Ra's nodded with a smile and without warning, he whipped out a knife from a hidden holster at his waist and cut a long slice along the back of their necks. He held the bloody knife to their necks and forcing them to stand on their knees. Ra's looked at Bruce and he peeked his head from the darkness of the room. Daley spotted him and his eyes widened in fear. Ra's switched on the lights and Bruce winced from the bright lights. He saw Carter and Daley powerless against Ra's as he pulled off their hoods and grabbed them by their collars.

"Now... what were you told to do about the U.S. attack?" Ra's said quietly, holding the knife tight against Daley's neck.

"Not to tell the Prodigal Son about the attack, master!" Daley said loudly, breathing heavy as the knife started breaking through the skin.

"Yes. And you didn't follow those orders." Ra's said coldly, taking the knife and plunging it deep into Daley's neck, the front of the knife piercing through the back of his neck.

Daley choked on his own blood as Ra's twisted the knife and pulled it sideways, blood pouring from the giant wound as Daley quietly died from blood loss on the cold, hard tile. Bruce turned away and spit out a good bit of blood before crawling to Ra's.

"Please! Stop it, Ra's. You're a goddamn psychopath!" Bruce yelled, standing up and grabbing Carter's sword that had been laid on the lab table.

"No." Ra's said, wiping blood from the knife with his glove and flipping it into his holster.

"America. Your _wonderful_ country... is full of them. Ignorant, selfish, greedy, inhumane monsters who have abused their power and their rights and used them to their advantage. Bruce, this world has been full of tyrants and dictators. But what happens every time the rules have been _bent_ too far? A rebellion. I can sense when the new age is coming." Ra's said, bending down as he talked to Bruce while Carter slowly reached for his knife hidden in his boot.

"After you've been alive for centuries like me, after seeing The Dark Ages of Europe, The Renaissance spring up, America becoming a country by defeating Great Britain... you start to sense when a new dawn is on the horizon. I can _feel_ it. We are living on the brink of the end, Bruce. The old world will die once again and a new one will rise from its ashes. I feel as if this age, will bring the world one step closer into total annihilation." he continued.

"Is destroying America part of this new plan?" Bruce asked, struggling against all his force not to kill Ra's.

"It has to happen. America had its chance for nearly three hundred years and it failed to live up to its purpose. We, The League _allowed _it to flourish. We waited patiently to see if it could help advance our spread. We waited as their civil war erupted, saw them build their inventions and literally change this world. But then, they began branching away from what the League wanted... so we threw them into a financial collapse, to show them what would happen if they go against us."

"You started the Great Depression?" Bruce asked, not believing what he was hearing.

"Yes, and despite what we thought it would do... it only increased your patriotic morale and you continued to develop and flourish without us. But, as you know Bruce, your great-great grandfather started a small banking company called Wayne Trust. _He_ helped America survive through the war and made Gotham the banking center of the world." Ra's said.

"What are you saying?" Bruce said, not wanting to hear the rest.

"Oh, don't worry. He wasn't a part of the League but we did warn him." Ra's replied.

"You son of a bitch. You caused the airplane crash." Bruce spat, shaking his head with anger.

Ra's only sat solemn and stared at Bruce intently.

"Do you really think everything is by accident? That is a fool's way to live, my son. Do you really believe that you can control your own destiny?" Ra's said, standing up and standing above Carter.

"You have no control. You are weak." he continued, taking the knife and plunging it deep into Carter's chest.

Carter screamed in pain and turned around, taking his knife and stabbing into Ra's thigh and knocking him over. Ra's quickly got up and grabbed his throat, stabbing the knife deeper inside his chest. He elbowed him in the jaw and instantly knocked him out, his head cracking against the tile floor.

"No!" Bruce yelled, suddenly rising up and running at Ra's.

Ra's grabbed his rushing arms and threw him halfway across the room, crashing into the table. Bruce immediately got up and took the knife inside Ra's thigh, pulling it out and slicing his right arm vertically. Ra's didn't even flinch as he punched Bruce in the pressure point in his side and Bruce blocked his next blow, ducking when Ra's leg soared over and punching him in the back. Bruce punched him twice in the face before kicking him into the door. Ra's grabbed him by his hair and kneed him in the chest, nearly knocking Bruce out.

"Control. I have three that need to be taken to the Pit. immediately." Ra's said into the radio.

Bruce looked up and was puzzled. If Ra's wanted Daley and Carter dead, why would he send them to the Lazarus Pit? Bruce tried to get up but the pain in his broken arm was too much. But then, he remembered his training, trying to sooth the pain and let it flow out of his soul. He took deep breaths and filled his mind with the anger he had for Ra's. He began to feel the pain all over seep away and he stayed down, acting as if he was still in pain. He waited until a group of Assassins took his friends' bodies. He stayed down as Ra's picked him up and hoisted his body over his shoulder and carried it throughout the Chinese temple. As Bruce thought about what would happen, he wondered how Ra's could contain the power of the Pit and bring it with him since he obviously had more than one location for the Pit.

Although his eyes were closed, Bruce could tell they were inside an elevator and the Assassin to Ra's' left looked at Bruce to see how he was breathing. The man opened Bruce's left eye to check on his vital signs and noticed that his eye was moving. If he was unconscious, this would've been impossible.

"Mast-." The Shadow began before Bruce hopped off Ra's' back and punched the man right between his eyes, ripping his hood off and using it to choke him out.

After Ra's grabbed the sword from the choking Assassin, Bruce wrapped the hood around Ra's hands, trapping them. The two other Assassins dropped Daley and Carter's bodies, drawing their swords and swiping at Bruce in the tight space. Bruce hopped off the wall and kicked one of them in the face, his back crashing into the elevator door. Ra's cut himself off from the hood and grabbed Bruce's right foot as he attempted to kick one of the Shadows. Bruce grunted in anger and hit him in the face with his broken arm. Ra's swung at Bruce and a long cut was made across his chest. Bruce ducked as he swung again and kicked his kneecap hard, hearing the bones snap.

"Ah! What are you doing, Bruce? You're risking everything!" Ra's yelled as he put Bruce in a headlock as the elevator dinged.

"You're not blowing up a country, Ra's. And don't give me the speech on acceptable losses!" Bruce yelled as he ran out of the elevator.

He saw that the bottom floor was a giant cavern. Stalactites hung dangerously from the rock ceiling and the entire place was lit from the Pit itself. Bruce quickly rushed to one end of the cavern and heard the Assassins and Ra's run in, splitting up into three lines as they circled the Pit. Bruce held his breath and smelled the air. The pit was odd. It smelled like an organic gel filled with mint and rainwater. He looked over the edge and saw that it was a lime-green color and was bright enough to light the well where it sat still, bubbling every now and then. Bruce hid behind a giant rock and didn't hear any footsteps. Of course he didn't. The League were trained to walk silent and swift. Bruce was going up against the men and women who had trained him over the past year-and-a-half. They had experience and swords. What did Bruce have? Fast legs and a moral compass that forced him not to kill. These Assassins wouldn't give him a second chance now. Bruce had crossed the line of the League and once it had been crossed... it was all over for them.

"Come out, Bruce! There's no use in hiding! This is a cavern!" Ra's yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing throughout the cave.

Bruce heard the quick sound of his blade being drawn and he looked around for anything to use as a weapon. He eyed a fairly large rock on the edge of the wall that guard the Lazarus Pit. He picked it up and peeked over the edge for a brief moment, hearing a ninja star fly across the air and whizz by his head. He quickly ducked back down and grabbed the rock tighter. As he tried to listen for the Assassins to approach him, he eyed a coffin-like container hanging above the Pit with three large chains. He saw a stairwell that led to the container and estimated that it would take him six seconds if he ran at his top speed. He tried to visualize where the two Assassins were but could only estimate they were about twenty-feet back by the speed the ninja star was traveling.

"Bruce! Ra's yelled with anger.

Bruce followed the sound of his voice and knew he was at least fifteen or so feet from the rock wall. Bruce held the rock tight and jumped up, spotting an Assassin with his sword drawn and two ninja stars between his fingers. Bruce flung the rock as hard as he could and it sickly hit him with force, instantly knocking him out as he fell back over the wall and into the Lazarus Pit. He collided with a big splash and the heated water overtook him as he sunk to the depths of the pool. The other Assassin heard the splash and turned around, seeing Bruce as he ran to the stairwell. As dust was kicked up and small pebbles flew across the ground, Ra's sprinted after Bruce and he found the stairwell hall to be very narrow. Bruce saw that Ra's was quickly behind him and swung his sword, sparks flying off the rock wall as Bruce jumped off one side, flipping back onto the stairs and kicking Ra's in the chest. Ra's stumbled back for a moment before swiping his sword again, this time cutting a long slice of Bruce's left thigh. He ignored the pain and kept running up the stairs, seeing a giant door at the top.

"We can work this out, Bruce! You need to know the truth about everything!" Ra's said as Bruce was approaching the door.

"Then tell me!" Bruce replied.

Bruce hopped through the door and shut it, slamming the metal door down against the rock floor hard. He heard Ra's trying to break through it and heard him grunting. He heard the familiar click of the radio and knew the Demon's Head was calling for more Assassins. Bruce took a moment to catch his breath and looked around the room, seeing all types of weapons and battle armor all decorated in the room. He saw Japanese warrior armor with the weird ceremonial masks, a fifteenth-century ninja outfit complete with ninja stars and a sword covered in ancient symbols that described something involving destiny. The hood was decorated like a bat's ears and had thin strips of armor on the sides and the forehead. The mouth was left open and was rumored to show that while the warrior hides his face, he will always speak and act out the truth no matter what. Bruce cracked his neck and kicked twice at the glass case with the ninja outfit. He heard it crack and he rammed it with his shoulder to no avail. He shook his head in frustration and gasped silently when he saw three grappling hooks stab into the rock floor and saw that cables were attached. He could feel the presence of many figures in the cavern and he desperately tried to break the case open.

"C'mon!" Bruce said sharply as he heard the case crack once again.

He saw three Assassins appear on the edge of the rock wall and he hid behind one of the display cases as ninja stars were strewn across the display room. He heard them collide against the wall and one landed near his left hand. He held it in the right position and jumped off the display case and flung the star in their direction, hearing it stick to one of the Assassins' foreheads. He grunted and painfully pulled it out, flinging it again and aiming for Bruce's heart. He held his right hand against his chest and the ninja star stuck in his hand. He grunted in pain and pulled it out, seeing and feeling the blood form to the surface of his skin. He ran at the men and ducked as a sword whizzed past his head. He kicked one of the Assassins in the knee and grabbed his body, running towards the ninja case and slamming the man into it. The glass shattered and bits of glass covered him as Bruce grabbed the ancient sword and found it surprisingly easy to carry and noticed that it was as strong, maybe stronger than the regular League swords.

He swung it around and blocked the two others' attacks. He parried and traded blows with the swords and gritted his teeth, backing up against the broken case, grabbing a bit of glass and tossing it in their faces, slicing their hands and making them drop their swords. He grabbed one of the League members' head and slammed it into the square glass case located to the left, watching as her head nearly broke the glass and she was instantly knocked out. He turned around and saw more hooks stab into the rock. He slid under the legs of a tall Assassin and cut two of the hooks' cables off, hearing them fall to the ground.

"Bruce! Give it up!" Ra's said, busting through the metal door with the help of a high-tech battering ram and tackling Bruce as he put on the ninja armor and stuffed the bat hood in his pocket.

He put Bruce in a headlock and made him drop the sword. Bruce tried to grab Ra's and break free of his grasp but Ra's had him.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You no right to wear that!" Ra's yelled, choking Bruce with his forearms.

"You... have no right to live, you monster!" Bruce said with a raspy voice.

Ra's growled and tossed Bruce into the broken glass case. Bruce wiped the glass off his shoulders and punched Ra's in the face, blood shooting from his nose and kicking him in the throat. Ra's shook off the pain and swung his sword down, Bruce doing a barrel-roll on the ground and running into the wall. Ra's wiped his nose and gave a scowl.

"Do you know why I chose you?" Ra's growled as Bruce picked up his sword and grabbed the forearm gauntlets used for climbing and self-defense.

"Why?" Bruce asked as he ran at Ra's and two other Assassins.

"You... were... the prodigal son!" Ra's yelled as his sword collided with Bruce's.

"What?"

"Do you really think you just_ happened_ to crash that truck on the cliff in the snow? Hm?" Ra's asked.

"No..." Bruce replied as he kicked an Assassin from his field of vision and cutting off another's finger.

"You were meant to find one of our operatives on the road and he would lead you there. If only that damn ice hadn't of been so slick. And you don't believe in destiny?" Ra's said with a laugh.

Bruce only shook his head and swung his sword with all his might. He screamed in anger and nearly knocked the sword from Ra's' hand. As an Assassin tried to jump on his back, Bruce jumped out of the way and grabbed his hands, tossing him over the edge of the display room and into the Pit. He swiftly dodged a Shadow's blade and knocked the sword out of his hand and kicked his head, making him trip into the glass table case. Ra's clanged swords with Bruce and they were face-to-face.

"I treated you like you were my son! I taught you to become a warrior and you _betray_ me like one of my enemies. You were meant to be the world's savior. You were to go to Gotham... tear that sinful city apart, and work for the greater good! The world has influenced you. You are lost!" Ra's said tearfully as he pushed the sword toward Bruce as he struggled to hold the sharp blade back.

"I am not your son. I can never betray my city." Bruce said through gritted teeth.

Bruce finally understood what he needed to do. He didn't need to be in a league to teach him the difference between right and wrong. He knew his morals all along. The League of Assassins wasn't where he belonged and he knew that now. They were a powerful yet selfish and insane organization that thought they were the good in a world full of evil. As Ra's' blade inched closer to his neck, Bruce realized that destiny was real. He knew what he had to do. Gotham City had been the burden he had tried so hard to forget but it was _his city_. It seemed obvious and destined that Gotham City was at the epicenter of the League's plans. He needed to protect it and save it from destruction. It was time to set things right.

"You traitor." Ra's spat as he disconnected from Bruce's blade.

Before he could strike, Bruce screamed in pain and anger and thrust the blade into Ra's' chest. The blade went all the way through his body and Ra's' began coughing up blood and laughing as Bruce growled and the Assassins stood still.

"You finally broke your rule. You can be corrupted, my detective. You're not a hero after all." Ra's said as blood dripped down his lips.

"You'll live again..." Bruce said as he stabbed the blade all the way through his body to the hilt and grabbed the chains connected to the coffin-like container.

"And I will stop you."

As Bruce cut the chain off with one, swift move of a hidden dagger of the suit, he put the warrior bat hood on and flung ninja stars at the Assassins as he swung across the pit. He landed on the ground beside the elevator and carried his friends' bodies inside with him as the Assassins ran at him screaming. He took a breath inside the elevator and leaned down beside their bodies, searching them for anything useful. He found a small portable satellite phone inside Daley's belt and he stuck it in his back pocket. He looked inside all of Carter's pockets and found a bloody small charge of C-4 in his vest. Bruce gave a small smile and searched for the detonator before putting their bodies together and placing the C-4 charge at their feet. Bruce waited until he got to the top floor and quickly ran out, closing the elevator door and about to press the detonator.

"Don't worry guys, you'll never be like him..." Bruce said quietly as he heard the alarm inside the temple.

"Or me."

He pressed the detonator and heard the loud boom and the screeching of metal as the elevator shaft blew apart, temporarily trapping the shadows and Ra's inside the Pit Cavern. He dropped the detonator and ran from the temple, busting open a three-story window with his foot as he jumped from it, landing on the muddy forest ground and running away in the humid air as the temple's sirens screamed on.

* * *

**present day**

"Alfred... it's me. Bruce." Bruce said as he talked to his butler he hadn't seen in four and a half years.

After leaving the League temple, Bruce had traveled the world, meeting monks in Tibet, visiting African tribes and learning natural alternatives to medicine, and traveling for six months abroad a fishing ship in order to learn the ways of the ocean trade and how to navigate without a map or compass. It had been almost five years but yet it felt like a decade. Bruce was a different man now. He still wanted revenge, but now he knew how to exert it properly and maturely. Now, there was only one more step: take his rightful place as Bruce Wayne.

"Master Bruce? My God, I thought you were dead." Alfred said through the phone, his voice choked with tears and shock.

"I'm sorry for all I've done. It's a long story but now... I want you to come pick me up." Bruce replied, looking around the snowy area as a cold chill ran up his spine.

"Are- are you in the States or do I need to get a plane?" Alfred asked, his voice indicating he was moving around.

"A plane. I'm in Greenland at a shipping yard. I'll send you the coordinates once I find a computer." Bruce said.

"I"ll get on one right now and we'll be there in eight hours or less. Call if anything goes wrong." Alfred said quickly, hanging up with excitement and sadness in his voice.

Bruce hung up Daley's satellite phone and sat on the bench, running his fingers through his slightly long hair. He gave a small smile as he stretched his muscles an waited at the restaurant beside the dock and used the last bit of money he had collected on the ship and ordered a big breakfast, not caring what was healthy or good for his system. He was just happy to be going home.


	17. Symbol

***As I said before in Batman VS Superman, Gotham is Manhattan in the JUSTICE UNIVERSE. The city is split up into two parts, Gotham and Old Gotham. Gotham is exactly like New York City but imagine if New York City was _two_ _islands _instead of one. The second island is in complete disarray and is the equivalent of the Narrows. A large bridge separates the two islands and Old Gotham is notorious for being extremely dangerous and risky to venture into. **

**The Palisades, as discussed also in Batman VS Superman is a small peninsula that is basically shaped like a spoon. It rests off the "suburban" side of Gotham City and the skyline of the city can be seen from Wayne Manor. **

* * *

"My God... you've grown." Alfred said with shock as Bruce boarded the plane, his sword in a case by his side and his bat suit hidden in his bookbag.

"Ah. I've probably only gained like two inches." Bruce said with a laugh as he hugged Alfred and they walked to the private living room.

"No, Master Bruce. I meant in stature and maturity. I can tell something changed during these last few years. What happened?" Alfred said, suddenly becoming serious.

"It's a long flight home, Alfred. Don't worry. I'll tell you everything." Bruce said as they both sat down, facing each other while a pretty flight attendant gave both of them a bottle of water.

* * *

"After I got away from the League temple, I ran in the woods for over three hours until I found a road and a nice Chinese farmer offered me a ride. Luckily, his son is an American businessman so he knew basic English. He was able to take me to the airport and I went to Tibet and studied with some monks for about six months." Bruce said.

"I thought Tibet wasn't open to tourists." Alfred said, raising an eyebrow.

"It isn't." Bruce said with a slight smirk.

Alfred gave an eyebrow raise and gave a slight smile.

"You'll never lose that humor, I assume?" Alfred asked.

"I hope not." Bruce smirked.

"So, you obviously undertook this crusade to find out your true self, right?" Alfred began, letting Bruce answer.

He responded with a nod.

"Well, Master Bruce... what's next?" he asked.

"I want to help Gotham City. For too long, it has been haunted by the crime and violence on the streets. Police can't do a damn thing and the politicians are too worried about losing their millions. I want to help rebuild this city... fill it with hope and maybe even show everyone that things can change with the right push." Bruce replied.

"So, you want the company to become like the Red Cross?" Alfred asked, not understanding what Bruce meant.

"No. I've decided that there's no way I could change things as me... Bruce Wayne. I'm a part of the 1% and there's no getting past that, no matter how much I tried to show the people otherwise." Bruce continued.

"So... what are you saying?" Alfred asked.

"I need to be something more than just a man. While I was with the League, I learned the trade of deception and taking advantage of an enemy's imagination. In order to really forgive myself and start living, you know what I want to do." Bruce said as he laced his fingers and stared at Alfred.

"Find your parents' killer." Alfred said with a large sigh.

Bruce nodded and looked out the window.

"Yes. And I can't do that as Bruce Wayne. During my stay with the African tribes, I saw that they wore... costumes of sort to strike fear in the hearts of their enemies. They used the power of imagination to their advantage, allowing them to seem as if they're superhuman and like evil spirits. This is the only way I see myself saving this city. Wayne Enterprises is full of corrupt officials just like everyone in the GCPD and courthouses. I've watched that case with the hotshot lawyer, Dent. I swear, the hypocrisy is sickening." Bruce said.

"Not that I am agreeing, Master Bruce; but what did you have in mind?" Alfred asked, regretting every word.

Bruce raised an eyebrow and dug in his bag and pulled out the bat hood. He handed it to Alfred and waited for him to respond.

"A bat? I thought you hated them." he said, not looking up as he felt the fabric and thin slice of armor all around it.

"I still do. But if I want to put fear in the hearts of criminals and the killer... I need to show none. My greatest fear can become my greatest advantage. I need to become a symbol to show this city that there's someone who's not afraid."

Alfred looked up at Bruce and saw that he was completely serious.

"I will help you. But just this one time." Alfred said.

"That's all I need."Bruce replied as the plane was twenty miles from Gotham.

* * *

"Wow. Things haven't changed a bit." Bruce said as he hoisted his bag over his shoulder and looked around Wayne Manor for the first time in almost five years.

"Well, sir. I wouldn't want to mess with perfection." Alfred said with a slight smile and took Bruce's worn cloth jacket and his bag, making his short-sleeve shirt slide across his shoulder.

He noticed two separate pink scar that looked like they had been done with a knife or other large object with a sharp tip. He remained silent as he hung Bruce's jacket and waited for Bruce to stop reminiscing. After Bruce turned to his butler, Alfred gave a nod of his head and walked ahead of him, leading him up the main staircase. Bruce kept his hand on the wooden railing and closed his eyes as he walked up, smelling and feeling all those senses he had missed. He had felt as if he had been gone his entire life and finally, he was back home from war.

"The rooms haven't changed that much. Did some brief construction last year when a bad storm came through and nearly ripped the wall off your old room. Would you like yours or the master bedroom?" Alfred said as they walked through the long hallway, lighted by expensive chandeliers.

"Um... I'm not sure if I could-." Bruce began before Alfred interjected.

"You don't need to be cautious, Master Bruce. This _is_ your house."

Bruce nodded slowly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

As they walked to the master bedroom, Bruce was overcome with a wave of emotion. He stumbled into a small table and fell to the ground in tears, picking up a basket on the table as it fell. Alfred quickly turned around and kneeled beside him, holding his head as Bruce broke out crying, hugging Alfred's torso tight, crying into his black jacket.

"I shouldn't have left, Alfred. You lost Mom and Dad, let Dr. Thompkins leave because of their deaths, and you lost me. I was so selfish and stupid!" Bruce said, letting Alfred hold him as they sat in the floor of the hallway.

"You listen to me, Master Bruce." Alfred said, holding Bruce's shoulders up and staring at him with a tear in his eye.

"I'm happy you left. This place was too much for a child like you. You needed to see the dangers of the world and what death does to others. I prayed _every single day_ that you wouldn't end up like many other kids out here who feel at lost when they lose the people they love. I am so... so proud of you." Alfred said, not ashamed to cry in front of Bruce.

"Your parents would be too. I know they would."


	18. Permanent Damage

"A boxing ring? Where did you get this?" Alfred said as he walked inside one of the many den rooms in the manor where Bruce was punching a large punching bag on top of a boxing ring stage while holding a tray full of breakfast food.

"My parent's were billionaires, Alfred. They told me how to use the finances." Bruce said as he punched the bag once more with the gloves before taking a breath and jumping off the stage.

He saw that Alfred had prepared a giant breakfast full of slices of ham, a couple slices of turkey bacon, five eggs over easy, two pancakes covered in syrup, strawberries and pineapples, and a glass of orange juice. He gladly took the tray and sat down by the couch, wiping the sweat from his forehead and back as he dug into his food. Alfred looked around his body and saw multiple scars all around. Bruce noticed after eating a whole pancake and two eggs and swallowed before looking back at his butler.

"I told you I'd been through some hard times." Bruce said, taking a swig of orange juice.

"I don't wish to know." Alfred said with a nod as he took Bruce's sweaty towel and threw it back to him.

Bruce stopped eating and gave Alfred a surprised look.

"Just because I'm a butler doesn't mean you get to take advantage of me when you use my _own_ bank account for your enjoyment. I read my transcript this morning and knew I wasn't that focused on fitness to buy an $80,000 boxing ring with $500 in accessories." Alfred said with an eyebrow raised.

"Okay, listen," Bruce said, his mouth full of food as he tried to defend himself.

"I didn't want everyone to know I'm back in Gotham. I need to plan my re-arrival. Do you know what this'll do to the media. I essentially disappeared for four years and know I'm back? Some people are going to be wondering what happened to me. I need to make an alibi and I had an idea. But you probably won't like it." Bruce said.

"Why not?" Alfred asked, crossing his arms as Bruce ate a piece of bacon.

"Well... it involves me having a cane before you do." Bruce said, almost giving a smirk.

* * *

"I like this one. It think it reads spoiled, tree-hating, rich dick. Don't you think?" Bruce asked Alfred as he held up the expensive cane made of rare Amazonian wood.

"Mmm. Yes. If your plan is to make everyone hate you; it's working _just fine_." Alfred replied as he adjusted his ridiculous driver hat in the mirror beside them.

Bruce had gone to a "rich-kid" store in the upper-areas of Gotham and bought three $3500 suits and a gold watch. He had searched for a cane. When Alfred had asked why, Bruce said that if his alter-ego suddenly showed up coincidently at the same time Bruce Wayne had returned, it might cause a lot of suspicion. If it appeared that Bruce Wayne was crippled, no one would think he was a vigilante if he became popular and known.

"I'll take all of them." Bruce said to the employer, giving a spoiled look as he combed his short hair with his fingers.

He was looking pretty sharp for someone who had just traveled the globe. Bruce was an extremely handsome man with a slightly big buttock, broad shoulders like a football player, but lean and agile-looking like a boxer. He was 6'2 or 6'3 in his shoes and would definitely get the attention of the socialite woman with his dark green eyes and handsomely-cropped brown hair. He adjusted his sleeve collar and saw a GCN van park beside the family car. He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath as the cameraman set his things up and the reporter got out, looking anxious and scared.

"Master Bruce..." Alfred began before trailing off as Bruce looked at the door.

"Don't worry. This is exactly what I wanted." Bruce replied, giving a wink at Alfred as he stood back and the news crew ran inside the shop.

"Bruce Wayne! I'm Marc Foster from the Gotham City News channel and I think I'm the first to interview since you've returned. Can you answer a few questions?" the reporter asked.

"Um... sure. This asshole's taking forever getting me a new cane and some suits." Bruce said, his voice sounding slightly more sarcastic and hurtful.

"Yes!" Marc Foster whispered as he signaled the cameraman to start filming as he cleared his throat.

"Hello. I'm here with Bruce Wayne... after a four-year disappearance. Tell us Mr Wayne, where have you been?" Foster asked, shoving the microphone in Bruce's face.

"Well... I've traveled the world a bit. My butler over there sent me on a dumb college course that... in my opinion was a waste of time," Bruce said, pointing at Alfred in the back of the room.

"And plus, if it wasn't for stupid college... I wouldn't have torn a few ligaments or something like that in my foot here. The doc said it's permanent damage and now, he advised me to get a cane. What am I? Eighty like this prick in the back?" Bruce continued, pointing at Alfred again.

Alfred rolled his eyes and nodded in slight annoyance.

"Wow." Foster said with a small laugh.

"Well, Mr. Wayne. What are you going to do, considering your family's company?"

"Um... I guess I should go by there, right? The past three days I've been hungover too much to freaking move so... you know how it is." Bruce said, slapping Marc Foster's back hard as he saw the owner of the store approach him with two boxes and canes wrapped up.

"Ah... thank you!" he said loudly, rudely directing the owner to Alfred as he took one of the canes and unwrapped it, leaving the paper on the floor as he began to limp out of the store, Alfred struggling to carry the boxes.

"That's all the questions I have time for today, my man. I'm gonna go by the company and see if I can do anything. Bye now!" Bruce side as the camera followed him to the limo and he sat in the car, waiting for Alfred who nearly dropped a box.

After the news crew filmed the limo leaving and Alfred dropped the boxes in the passenger seat, he looked at Bruce in the rear-view mirror as he rolled down the sliding soundproof window and cleared his throat.

"What's wrong?" Bruce said, a laugh slipping up in his speech.

"I understand that you must seem to be a spoiled, brain-dead fool..." Alfred replied as he headed towards Wayne Enterprises.

"But could you try, and not have _too much_ fun with the act?"

"Message received." Bruce said, trying to get rid of his smile.

* * *

"Three days? He waits three days before contacting the company the reason that chump has _any _money to spare?" Suzanne Wells yelled as she threw the remote across her office, Lucius Fox wincing as the batteries flew out.

Fox just stood behind her desk and watched her take deep breaths as she tried to contain herself. Wells gave a angry laugh and looked at Fox.

"This is great, you know? Thomas and Martha would be ashamed at the boy they raised. I don't what that English prick taught him the past decade but its not going to help this company. Our stocks are going to go down. Does he realize this?" Wells said, slamming her desk as she walked out with Fox.

"I happen to be close friends with Mr. Pennyworth and from what I've gathered through the past years we've talked, Bruce seemed to have went his own way, going on a college world trip or something. I believe Mr. Pennyworth has spoken to him very much after he left." Fox replied, trying to defend Alfred.

"Well, whatever the matter, the kid needs to get his act together or this company is gone. I'm serious. As VP, you need to talk to this idiot and warn him what will happen. Legally, he owns over 40 percent of the company according to the Waynes' will." Wells said as they both walked to the elevator.

Lucius pushed his glasses to his head and silently waited as the elevator flew down the floors and Suzanne breathed heavily. He was forty-three, slightly handsome with that "sophisticated man" charm as he was never seen without a suit and his trademark glasses that usually hung from his neck. As a child, he was always ridiculed in his poor apartment in the lower streets of Gotham. As a black boy who would rather read than steal cars, Lucius was made fun of and had a hard life as he slowly moved his way up the business ladder, eventually receiving help in the form of Thomas Wayne's father, who took him on as an intern. He became good friends with both Waynes and his war buddy, Alfred Pennyworth. In twenty years of hard work, he had become the VP of Wayne Enterprises and he was proud. Except for the fact that the CEO of the company was Suzanne Wells, an arrogant, stressful woman who took her life too seriously, never giving herself a chance to even _appear _human. Lucius pulled out his phone as a small buzz vibrated in his coat pocket and he looked at the ID. It was the front office.

"Fox." he responded as the secretary answered.

"Um... yes, Mr. Fox. I have a... Bruce Wayne here to see you." the secretary said, giving a small laugh.

"Oh, well we're coming right down." Lucius said, about to hang up before Wells grabbed the phone from his hand and rudely spoke to the secretary.

"Tell Wayne that we will be there shortly." Wells said.

"Sorry, ma'am. He only asked to speak to Mr. Fox." the secretary said before Wells cut her off.

* * *

"Master Bruce, could you stop flirting for one minute, please?" Alfred said, finally playing along with Bruce's scheme.

"Fine. _But give me your number_." Bruce said, leaning over the edge of the desk and sliding a piece of the pretty girl's hair behind her ear, giving her the chills.

Bruce saw the slightly familiar face of Suzanne Wells from when he was younger and the years had most definitely not been kind to her. She had gained over thirty pounds and her hair was thin and gray. Bruce secretly hoped she would've have a stroke or something because she was too out of shape to work in a billion-dollar company. Bruce straightened his sleeves and walked towards the two leaders of the company.

"Hello, Bruce. I don't know if you remember me but I'm Suzanne Wells. I helped your father create the different branches of the company and I took over after he died. I was hoping to hear from you sooner than three days." Wells said, her anger brewing at the top.

"Yeah, I know. But hey... I can't come into work without a suit, right?" Bruce replied with an obnoxious laugh.

"I suppose so..." Wells said, her voice trailing off as she introduced the VP.

"Oh, this is Mr. Lucius Fox. He's the vice president and controls finances for the separate branches mostly, like WayneTech and Wayne Industries." she continued as Bruce shook both of their hands.

"I see. How do you do, Mr. Fox?" Bruce said, suddenly showing some respect for an adult.

Lucius gave a small smile and nodded in Alfred's direction as he stood five feet behind Bruce.

"Now, excuse me if I'm wrong, Mr. Wayne, but Janet here said that you wished to speak to Lucius alone, not me?" Wells said, her voice getting more stern.

"Well yes," Bruce began, clearing his throat.

"There were a few things I wanted to ask him."

"Well, you can have all the time in the world after I speak to you privately for just about a half-hour. Is that okay? I just need your help on me understanding this whole situation." Wells said as she walked to the elevator and Bruce followed, limping quickly with his cane.

As the doors shut, Wells pushed the 32nd floor button and Bruce took a deep sigh as he looked around the shaft in boredom. He began to tap the bottom of the elevator with his cane and saw Wells' eye twitch every time. He slyly looked over with one eye and began making a horrible rhythm, making her foot tap aggressively as they approached the office floor. When the door dinged, he heard her begin breathing heavy and he walked behind her, noticing that the office room was completely empty.

"Um... what happened here?" Bruce asked, pointing at the ceiling with his cane as he combed back his perfect brown hair.

"A strike." Wells said, crossing her arms and looking at Bruce with a raised eyebrow.

"Like the people quit?" Bruce asked, trying his best to look puzzled.

"Yes," Suzanne began as she paced the empty room with her arms around her back.

"Our employees are scared, Mr. Wayne. The economy is in danger. Gotham is the financial center on Earth and it appears that our greatest city has fallen victim to its own fault. In order to save money, we've cut off many benefits on all of our services; that includes the shipping yards, developing military technology in the Middle East, and many other manufacturing jobs all across America. We even got a letter from that newspaper place, The Daily Planet, I think it is? Yes, it's pretty clear no one wants to be doing to job if they aren't getting paid a little bit more."

"Well, this company can't cut off benefits like that. These are people who rather starve themselves then let their families go without comfortability for a minute. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to tell you how to do your job or anything but I don't think that's right." he replied, suddenly dropping the act and becoming the _normal_ Bruce Wayne.

"I know its not but I won't let this company lose it all." Wells said, looking out the giant plate glass window and staring down.

"What do you mean? Is there something else going on?" Bruce said, remembering to limp as he walked over to the window.

"Bruce... there's something you deserve to know about. I've hid it for too long and I hate myself for it. I just couldn't stand to see this company fail after your father fought _so hard_ to keep it an important part of this city." Suzanne said, taking a large sigh as she looked at Bruce.

"Wayne Enterprises has been involved with some dangerous people the last few years. I should've known better. Never do a deal with the dev-." she began before the plate glass window shattered partly and half her head was blown off.

Bruce stumbled backwards as blood sprayed on his new suit and he crawled away, two more bullets whizzing into the window, nearly hitting his back and head as the glass blew apart. He crawled on the carpet and ran to the intercom beside the elevator door.

"Help! Suzanne Wells has just been killed! Someone outside the building shot through the window! He's still shooting!" Bruce yelled into the intercom as drywall blew apart and the light fixtures above fell to the ground.

Glass flew everywhere and Bruce slid behind the wall next to the broken window. He heard a faint gunshot and counted how many seconds in between how many seconds it took to reach him. Two seconds. The shooter was located at the Farland Bank Institute Building across the street below. Bruce quickly looked outside and saw the shooter briefly before he ducked inside the door to the roof access part of the building. He was about 5'10, almost two hundred pounds, and was wearing all black. Bruce looked at the corpse of Suzanne Wells and shook his head, about to lean over at her body before spotting a camera sticking from the far right corner of the office room. He stayed backed against the wall and began to fake cry, tears running down his face as three security guards came up thirty-six seconds later and cleared the area before helping Bruce out of the room as the GCPD began to document the crime scene.

What was Suzanne about to tell him? Wayne Enterprises was definitely involved in something dangerous and Bruce knew he had no other chance. His parents' killer would have to wait. It was time to save the family business.


	19. Good People Left

"Hello? Mr. Wayne. Hello?" Detective James Gordon said as he leaned down and looked at Bruce as he continued to stare at the floor.

"Huh?" Bruce said, snapping back to the real world.

"So... what were you and Ms. Wells talking about before she was murdered?" Gordon asked, taking out a pen as he waited for Bruce to speak.

"Um... she was showing me this room to show me all the people that had been quitting because Wayne Enterprises recently cut off some extra benefits for the employees." Bruce said, carefully watching the GCPD as they brought Wells' corpse out on a stretcher, blood soaking through the cloth placed on her body.

"That's messed up." Detective Harvey Bullock said, shaking his head as he lit up a cigar with his big fingers.

Gordon shook his head and continued to listen to the rich kid as he told his version of what happened.

"Anyway, I think she was going to offer me a job or something because she told me if I liked the space." Bruce lied, calm as could be due to his training with the League.

"Really? That's kind of harsh." Bullock interrupted again.

"Harvey! Could you go outside and search for any evidence outside please?" Gordon said, slamming his notepad against his knee and pointing to the lobby door.

"Like where? The window washing platform?" Bullock asked sarcastically.

"Please, detective!" Gordon said, raising his voice as Bullock gave a slight laugh and walked out of the building.

Bruce shook his head before the detective could notice.

_These idiot cops. So corrupt and inconsiderate..._

"He's a good guy. Just got dropped on his head when he was born." Gordon said, trying to calm Bruce down who maintained a shocked persona.

_Yeah, I bet._

"Well, that's about all I have for you, Mr. Wayne. I really appreciate your help. I know this horrible stuff isn't easy." Gordon said, patting Bruce's back as he got up and nodded at Bruce before leaving the scene.

_Yeah. Go back to counting the bills you and your partner got from killing that witness, you pricks._

Bruce hated the police force. He wished that there was at least _one_ good cop who was honest and wanted to uphold the law without abusing its power. If only. The GCPD wasn't going to do a damn thing, but he sure was going to.

* * *

"You think he remembers us?" Bullock asked as Gordon started up their patrol car.

"Nah," Gordon said as he buckled his seatbelt and put the car in drive.

"You didn't speak during the ride to Wayne Manor. He'd remember a mouth like yours." Gordon said with a chuckle as they turned on the main road and Jim tried to piece together how the shooting happened.

He knew that there was no way Wayne had done it. The glass was pushed inward; if he had shot her, the glass would've all been outside. Plus, Wayne couldn't have hidden a gun anywhere, he didn't look that smart and they wiped the crime scene clean. But who would want to shoot the CEO of Wayne Enterprises? Then, Gordon shook his head at his rhetorical question and scoffed. Wayne had said that Wells had been talking about all the WE employees that had been laid off because a billionaire company apparently could spare a couple thousand each month for the hard workers that kept the company alive.

"What are you thinking about?" Harvey asked as he took a long puff from his cigar.

"The shooting. I need you to find all of the employees that have recently been laid off or have quit Wayne Enterprises." Gordon said as they stopped at a stoplight in Main Street.

"Let me guess. An guy gets pissed off because they fire him and he decided to get a little revenge?" Harvey asked as he drew another long drag from the cigar and tossed it out the window.

"You know I should write you up for that? Those things look like crap... literally." Jim said as he shook his head.

"Well... it's better than hobos _actually_ shitting on the street." Harvey said, laughing as he opened up the laptop and began investigating.

* * *

"Master Bruce..." Alfred said as he drove Bruce home.

"I don't like how you flat-out lied while being interviewed. You made Wells look like a bad person who only wanted money."

"Listen, how else am I supposed to protect myself? Hm? I'm sorry I insulted her. It's not like anyone would think any different. And plus, do you really think those cops are going to file my sayings into court? Please. They've got to catch up on a dozen boxes of donuts." Bruce replied.

"You can't judge them. There are some good people left in this city, Master Bruce. Gordon and Bullock are two of them." Alfred said, about to turn to on the road leading to the Palisades.

"Oh. Are you guys all buddies?" Bruce asked, his voice becoming more hurtful as he continued to talk.

Alfred shook his head.

"No. They were the two officers that brought you back to me after your parents had been killed by the mugger. They were the _only_ two who saw you as a child in need, not just a spoiled brat. You have trust issues and I can understand why. But you need to control your emotions better. Not everyone is corrupt, Master Bruce." Alfred said, looking at Bruce in the rear-view mirror.

"Okay, then. I understand. Now, I need your help with something." Bruce said, trying to ignore the subject.

Alfred raised an eyebrow in the mirror.

"What kind of weapons does WayneTech develop?"


	20. Omen

"Sir, I don't understand. A bat?" Alfred asked as Bruce sat in the giant study and showed him the bat warrior mask.

"Yes. This creature is exactly what I need to be. I know it makes no sense and you might think I'm insane but I promise; I know what I'm doing. The cops in this city are useless, despite what you say, people are scared to walk on the streets, crime is steadily rising, and someone just killed the CEO of my family's company." Bruce replied, trying the bat mask on his head.

"I can understand that," Alfred began.

"But how does that bat tie into our problem?"

"Okay," Bruce said, setting the mask on the small table beside him and pacing the room as the moonlight poured through a large window.

"During my journeys with the League of Assassins, I learned that some Japanese warriors would wear armor that resembled animals like bats or snakes. They were extremely brave and would fight until their last breath. But the most important thing they wore... was their masks. Also, I learned that those African tribes did the same thing. Dressing up as a demon really has an effect on people." Bruce continued, holding up the bat mask.

"The opening of the mask represents that although the warrior must hide his face to protect his identity and those he loves... the fact that everyone can see his mouth means that no matter what happens, no matter what trials attempted to defeat him... he will _always_ tell the truth."

"I see. Are you thinking what I am?" Alfred asked, giving a small sigh.

"I know it's not right to take the law into your own hands but these police will not do a damn thing, Alfred! I can be the force of good, find out who killed Wells and find Mom and Dad's murderer!" Bruce replied.

"It is wrong to be a vigilante." Alfred said, bowing his head as he took the mask and looked at it intently.

"I know. Believe me. But what if... just what if I could be the reason this city finally rises up and stops being afraid? I can be that symbol of defiance and bravery! Show the cops of this city... the _good ones_, that they need to make a stand against corruption and evil if an ordinary citizen can." Bruce said back to him.

"This mask... will strike fear into the heart of every wrong-doer that crosses me. I was meant for this, Alfred. I can feel it in my soul." Bruce continued, looking sincerely in his butler's eyes.

"I will go along with this. But only because-." Alfred began before the back window busted and shards fell to the ground.

Bruce panicked as he thought the assassin had returned but only saw... a bat, bleeding bad and flying around the ceiling of the study. It screeched pitiful cries and flew near the two men, two wet pieces of bat poop splashing against Alfred's black suit coat. Bruce raised any eyebrow as the bat found its way out of the window.

"How's that for an omen?" Bruce asked.

"Hm." Alfred said, trying to move stiffly as he stood up.

"Let's go meet Lucius. Just... let me get a new coat."

* * *

"WayneTech has been in operation since the increase of spy surveillance and military importance has increased. We make everything from off-road combat vehicles to winter-proof vegetable seeds; we even have a few brands that sponsored the race-car drivers. Your father was a big supporter of the program, despite what the liberals had to say about his pro-gun arguments." Lucius Fox said as he led Bruce out of the main Wayne Enterprises building and they walked to Bruce's limo.

"You a Republican, Mr. Fox?" Bruce asked as they sat down.

"No. I like to think of myself as an American... if that makes any sense." Fox replied.

"I agree completely." Bruce said with a smile as he signaled for Alfred to drive ahead.

"So, Mr. Wayne... before I let you take this job at WayneTech, I need to know the truth." Fox said.

Bruce gave him a puzzled look.

"Don't play dumb, Mr. Wayne. Thomas tried that and it never worked. I know you're not the person the news wants you to be." Fox said.

"What's the news saying?" Bruce asked.

Lucius gave a small laugh and grabbed the remote from the T.V. built into the limo. Bruce watched him scan through the channels and he stopped on GCN2.

"-before he officially announced his arrival, Bruce Wayne was spotted at Young Aristocrat getting some new suits and what seemed to be a cane." Marc Foster said as he sat in the news room with a small box showing the footage he took of Bruce in the store.

"If it wasn't for stupid college, I wouldn't have torn a few ligaments or something like that in my foot here. The doc said it's permanent damage and now, he advised me to get a cane. What am I? Eighty like this *beep* in the back?" Bruce said on the T.V.

Lucius looked back at Bruce as the news report continued.

"As soon as the Prince of Gotham returns, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Suzanne Wells was murdered earlier this morning while discussing "business terms" with Bruce Wayne, according to police reports. We have tried to get more information on Ms. Wells death but the GCPD have declined for comments at this moment. More on this story as it develops. Now, onto the international news, after a giant oil spill in the Bahamas, reports claim native pirates were killed by a man described as wearing "gold and green armor". We have tried to-." Marc Foster continued as Lucius cut off the T.V.

"What's the point of that?" Bruce said, his disguise becoming weak as he realized it wasn't worth it.

"Bruce..." Fox said, his voice growing serious.

"What are you doing? A man like you just doesn't return because he misses the money. And I can tell by the way you walk sometimes that you have no limp. What is really going on here?" Fox asked.

Bruce bowed his head and sighed.

"I think this was a mistake. I thank you for all you've done, Lucius. But I don't think this was the right thing to do. At least not yet. Alfred! Please turn around." Bruce said, his voice quiet and calm.

Alfred turned the car after stopping at a lane change and sighed, knowing what Bruce was thinking.

"Wait! What's going on? Alfred, stop!" Lucius said, suddenly hanging onto his seat and pushing the glasses to his head.

"Don't worry, Lucius. We aren't killing you or anything. I don't want you to get involved with this. At least not yet. I'll contact you by the end of the week." Bruce said calmly, look serious at Lucius' eyes.

"Please tell me what's going on." Lucius said as Alfred parked the car at the sidewalk of Wayne Enterprises.

"Don't worry, I plan to." Bruce said, slightly pushing Lucius out of the car as he shut the door.

"What in the world is going through your head? Do you realize his suspicion now?" Alfred asked as they drove away.

"Of course," Bruce said, sighing with a slight smile.

"But now, he'll be begging to come back."


	21. Cave

"What is God's name is that? You're taking this bat thing too far." Alfred said as he walked into Bruce's bedroom and saw him with a sewing kit, piecing together a cloth outfit with a crude black bat-like symbol across the chest.

"I'm really doing this, Alfred." Bruce replied as he cut a stray piece of string from the costume.

Alfred shook his head as Bruce rose and he put the outfit on his shirtless body. It was a tight fit and the light grey color made his physique show. He put on the bat mask and gave Alfred a look.

"How is it?" Bruce asked.

"Ridiculous. You need a matching pair of pants." Alfred replied, raising an eyebrow as he calmly left the room.

Bruce shook his head and pulled off the mask, looking into the eyeholes. Before he could think, he heard the slight screeching noise of the trapped bat once again inside Wayne Manor. He walked out of the master bedroom and called for Alfred.

"Alfred! How come these bats keep getting trapped?" he asked.

"There's a large cavern about forty feet from the left edge of the Manor. I assume they travel up the shafts built in the late 1800's. Your great-great grandfather made a well from the springs below. The well's been sealed off for decades but I assume there must be small cracks." Alfred said loudly from across the hall as he folded his master's laundry in the other room.

"Hm. How soon can you go out and get some climbing and excavation equipment?" Bruce asked, still looking at the mask.

* * *

**one day later**

"I must say that I'm not a fan of you tearing down the walls your family built, Master Bruce." Alfred said with a wince as Bruce swung a sledgehammer into the hall.

They had moved the family grandfather clock and bookcase and Bruce began tearing up the wall, trying to find the well entrance, referencing the blueprints made over 150 years before. Bruce had bought climbing gear such as gloves, cables, a grappling hook, flashlights, glosticks, and pickaxes. He was preparing to find out exactly what was in the caves and see if it was a place where you could operate without compromising his home. His image was complete but eventually, media and the elite would want to visit his house. He couldn't try to be the dumb billionaire and be a vigilante in the same house. He needed of sorts.

"Don't worry. We can put the clock back in its place. I literally have limitless resources." Bruce said as he swung again, hitting brick behind the main wall.

Alfred and Bruce both looked at each other and Bruce swung again, easily breaking up the brick wall, hearing it shatter on the ground about five seconds later.

"Well," Bruce said while wiping the sweat from his head.

"It's a long way down."

* * *

"You ready?" Bruce yelled up as he was halfway down the rock shaft, a cold breeze suddenly making his spine freeze.

"Yes! Three... two... one!" Alfred said, releasing the rope with a two-way motorized pulley, lowering Bruce to the ground as he held onto the shaft with his legs and let the harness lower him fast.

Bruce felt his boots hit the cold rock ground and he motioned his flashlight towards the sound of rushing water. He saw multiple bats fly throughout the huge cavern and every step he took, the temperature got colder and colder. He ran across the damp ground and nearly slipped on the rock as he looked around the cave, dropping glosticks every ten steps he took. He looked at the ceiling and saw bats hanging from the top, silently sleeping. He saw the brief shining of water and motioned back, seeing a giant waterfall about three hundred feet back.

"Holy..." he began before clicking the walkie-talkie in his pocket.

"Alfred! This place is huge. There's bats everywhere and there's a giant waterfall. I think there's an opening that leads to the shores on the Palisades. I'm going over there. If I'm not back in ten..." Bruce began.

"Don't worry. I'll be back."

"Yes, sir." Alfred replied, his voice echoing through the cavern.

Bruce stuck the walkie-talkie back in his pocket and ran across the cave, dropping twenty more glosticks as he ran to the other side of the cave, coming near the waterfall. He looked around and nearly smiled at the sight of the cave. It was immense and the cave floor was unevenly located around the area. Some platforms were over sixty feet up while a few were jutted from the side of the wall. Bruce unhooked the grappling hook from his utility belt and swung it around three times before letting it fly through the air and latch onto the rock on one of the high platforms. He made sure the cable line was strong and he jumped against the wall, slowly walking up it as he barely struggled. As he climbed up the side, he held the flashlight in his mouth, sighing with disgusting as a bat flew straight into his face, making him become off-balanced. Bruce slipped off the damp wall and struggled to keep his breathing under control as he grabbed the cable again, hanging twenty-feet from the ground.

"C'mon..." Bruce whispered quietly to himself.

He placed one foot back against the cave wall and shook his head as he regained concentration.

"This place could use a dehumindifer..." Bruce said.

"Or a hundred."

* * *

Alfred stood in the kitchen, watching the T.V. on the tile counter while holding the walkie-talkie in his hand. He eventually took a seat and closed his eyes as the GCN program continued to air.

"The Gotham Rogues have won their _third_ game in a row. Bobby, this season is amazing for them and I really hope- what?" the sports forecaster said to the T.V. as someone spoke to him through his earpiece.

"Okay, ladies and gentleman, we just have a report that the Farland Bank Institute Building is under attack from a shooter nearby. We have reports that six people are dead and two of them are Wayne Enterprises employees. We are going to direct you straight to the live news feed on West Beverly Avenue." the newscaster said before the T.V. switched to the live feed.

Alfred rose up in his chair and stared at the screen, watching the violent horror unfold.

"Oh my God! There's more than one shooter! I can count five, no seven shooters! They just caused the secruivan to blow up and there's people hurt on the street!" a rookie reporter named Vicki Vale said as her cameraman focused on the shooters firing machine guns all over the front of the skyscraper.

Glass fell from the building and screaming could be heard on the streets. Vicki ran across the street and bullets flew all around her, the cameraman getting shot and his blood splattering all over the lens. Her screaming could be heard as the feed was cut off.

"Master Bruce! I need you right now! The Farland Bank is being shot at and many people are dead! Two of them worked at WE! Please hurry!"

* * *

"Alright! I'm coming! Go to the garage and start it up!" Bruce said as he jumped from the rock platform and zipped down with the cable.

He unclipped himself and kept the flashlight on as he ran back to the shaft opening. Quickly, he activated the pulley with his foot and stood on it as he flew back up to the broken wall.

"What's in the garage?" Alfred asked.

"Ah, you'll see. Be there in forty seconds." Bruce replied, climbing up the wall and running upstairs to the master bedroom.

* * *

"Why doesn't he ever tell me anything?" Alfred said to himself as he opened the door to the giant Manor garage and saw a nice-looking sports car that was completely solid black, had special paint that left no reflection or shine of any kind, and how armor coating the roof, hood, sides, and hubcaps.

He opened the door and noticed how low the car was. He pushed the ignition button and sighed, turning around and seeing Bruce with the bat hood on, the fabric suit that had a layer of Kevlar under it, military style cargo pants with similar Kevlar down the leg pieces, and gloves. It startled Alfred and he winced as Bruce ran in the garage door. Bruce gave him a nod and he jumped inside the car, revving the engine as he rolled down the window.

"What is this?" Alfred asked, almost scared by the absurdity of the situation.

"Don't worry. Just keep watching the news." Bruce said calmly, backing out of the garage as the door opened.

Bruce was going 30 MPH backwards and swiftly turned around, switching to drive and speeding out of the Wayne Manor driveway, heading into a shortcut that led to a quicker way to the main city. Bruce switched gears and swerved past a car at 6 MPH, eyeing the bridge he needed to merge with to get to Gotham City. While watching the road, he took out his phone and set a GPS route to the Farland Bank Building. He switched gears again as he boarded the bridge and slid back his console, seeing the twenty ninja star all neatly organized in a tray and ten glue bombs made from the League recipe in the console as well.

Bruce felt ready. He was sick and tired of being in the dark all his life. Tonight... he was going to become the man he had always strived to be. This city would get the justice it deserved.


	22. Shooters

"Dammit. Frank's dead and all I have for a weapon are these freaking heels!" Vicki Vale said to herself.

As she hid behind a bullet-riddled car, she looked from the side and saw the seven shooters firing on the GCPD squad cars that stopped twenty feet short of the crime. They began firing and the first in line was Police Commisioner Loeb, firing a shotgun at the shooter who took cover behind an overturned taxi cab. The man fired his machine gun over the side of the cab and Loeb ducked , sparks flying as bullets hit his car. He eyed Vicki from the car and ordered two officers to go and help her.

* * *

"Harvey! Get your ass over here and help that girl!" Detective Gordon yelled over the gunfire.

Detective Bullock fired three rounds from his squad car and took a long puff from his cigar as he heard Gordon call to him. Gordon had his gun drawn and was behind Loeb's car, firing at the shooters, a bullet hitting one's chest armor. The shooter stumbled backward and put another 100 round magazine in his heavy machine gun as the police continued to fire. Gordon saw the news lady wincing as bullets flew all around and they both saw the news chopper.

"Commissioner Loeb! We gotta get that news chopper out of here!" Gordon yelled to his superior.

Loeb looked up in the sky and got on his radio as the shooter with the heavy machine gun pointed his weapon in the air and began to fire. Bullock ran behind Gordon and tapped his head as the four watched the shooter light up the news chopper. Although they couldn't hear it, the shooter was laughing crazily and smiling under his bulletproof helmet.

"Jim! Go get the girl! I'll cover you. That bastard needs to stop shooting that chopper or we'll have a big mess on our hands!" Bullock yelled to his partner, taking another large drag from his cigar as Gordon prepare to run.

In college, Gordon had been in track and gymnastics. Although he was forty-two and had to wear glasses, he was in perfect shape for his age and passed the GCPD physical with flying colors. He had graying light-brown hair and a thick mustache that he was known for in the department. He had been with the department for over eighteen years and Bullock had been his partner for that long as well. Gotham had become his city and he tried desperately to keep it under relative control. In the past five years, the crime in the city had steadily risen, with more and more cops being able to be bought out by the Mob that controlled most criminal activity. As Gordon watched the helicopter get bombarded with bullets, he wondered if the Mob was behind this and what agenda they were trying to fulfill.

"Gordon! Try to flank that shooter. I'll send some officers to get the newswoman! Take the prick out!" Loeb yelled as he pumped his shotgun.

Gordon nodded and ran past the line the GCPD had made with their cars. He jumped on top of a rookie officer as a shooter fired an SMG and his entire door was bombarded with armor-piercing rounds. He pulled the shocked officer behind his car and waited for Bullock as he fired his gun dry. He felt for his extra magazine in his back pocket and stuck the empty one in its spot. Bullock slid over the trunk of the rookie's car and screamed in pain as a mist of blood flew into the night air. He tumbled to the ground and Gordon dragged him along with the rookie.

"You okay?" Gordon asked, finding the bullet wound.

"Ah, he hit a soft spot in the back of my shoulder. I'l live. Just keep lighting them up!" Bullock said, groaning softly as blood poured from his back.

Gordon nodded and fired from the side of the squad car, firing two rounds in the shooters' direction. He saw a couple trying to run away from the scene but one of the shooters took his high-powered pistol and shot them both in the head. Gordon screamed in anger and picked up the rookie's gun, firing both of the Berettas as the shooters continued to cause chaos. He was about to reload and almost pulled another magazine out before hearing the helicopter one hundred feet above explode and its burnt body fall to the ground in a fiery blaze. Gordon slammed the hood in anger and kept firing as the noise got louder and more units showed up.

"Gordon! You can see better! I need an update! According to Unit 532, there's an unidentified black vehicle approaching from their side of the shooting! It's probably a getaway vehicle. Get as many units as possible to stop that thing! They _cannot_ escape!" Loeb yelled through his walkie-talkie.

"10-4, sir!" Gordon replied, getting the attention of five other officers as they watched the car approach the scene.

* * *

Bruce shifted gears again and saw the horror before him. He swerved past three abandoned cars and didn't flinch as three bullets hit the windshield. Luckily, the windshield was bullet-proof but too much damage might have shattered it. Bruce saw the shooters ahead and sped up, suddenly pulling the E-brake and sliding sideways into the firefight, hitting one of the shooters with the armored side of the car. The shooter flew ten feet through the air and broke every bone in the legs and completely shattered his right elbow. Bruce quickly dodged gunfire as he parked behind an abandoned car and he quickly got out, taking the tray of glue bombs and ninja stars with him as he ran into the fight.

He flung two ninja stars with expert precision at the shooters, both of them sticking in the back of a shooter's head, making her scream in pain as she fell to the ground. Bruce took out a glue bomb and dodged a wave of gunfire from the heavy gunner as the gun made the ground vibrate. Before he could fire again, Bruce closed one eye and tossed the bomb with all his might, the bomb exploding against the tip of the gun. The man fired the gun but the glue was hard and flexible enough to make the weapon backfire. Before the gunner could drop the gun, Bruce leaped at the man and grabbed his helmet off, taking it and whacking the gunner in the stomach. Two other shooters fired at him in fear and surprise, dodging the bullets and tossing the helmet in their direction and nearly breaking one of their kneecaps. Bruce took the heavy machine gun and took out the magazine, slamming it against the road.

He took another ninja star before his pocket and flung at the gunner's face, watching it violently stab into his cheek. The gunner growled in anger and swung at Bruce. He ducked and punched him in the armpit, taking his arm and bending it backwards before breaking it completely. Bruce punched him hard in the face and watched a bloody tooth shoot out from his mouth as he collided hard with the ground.

Bruce felt a bullet hit the Kevlar in his back and he growled, flinging a glue bomb at the shooter's helmet, the glue exploding and completely covering the shooter's torso, making him fall to the ground. Before Bruce could run at the rest of the shooters, Bruce saw bullets cover the street, coming from the GCPD. He looked over at them and saw Detective Gordon firing at him with two pistols.

_I bet you think you're doing a good thing._

* * *

_I wonder if he thinks this is the right thing._

Gordon watched the bat-like man run across the firefight, throwing small circular knives and little balls that exploded into something like glue. The man was trained and knew what he was doing. He wasn't using any guns and was wearing a costume. Either this was a distraction... or this psycho was trying to help. What was wrong with this city?

* * *

Bruce felt the pain in his knuckle as he punched one of the shooters in the torso and spun around, ducking as another tried to hit him with the butt of his gun. Bruce grabbed the man by his throat and held him up high as the man screamed. Everyone on the scene froze and watched as Bruce threw the man down and punched him in his temple hard, instantly knocking him out.

"Fire!" Commissioner Loeb yelled at his officers.

Immediately, waves of bullets buzzed over his and the shooters' heads. Bruce ducked below and ran low as the GCPD desperately tried to kill the vigilante. Bruce ran across the burnt helicopter wreckage and tossed two more glue bombs into the firefight, covering glue all over the "playing field". Bruce eyed his car and ran towards it, opening it with a click of the key in his pocket and quickly getting in as the gunfire continued to echo all over the city. He closed the door and quickly spun turned the car around to the scene of the shooting. He rolled down the passenger window and sped through the firefight, multiple bullets hitting the armor. Bruce took the rest of the glue bombs and tossed them all in the shooters' way, the bombs exploded on their chests and arms, almost trapping them. He threw out five ninja stars as well and heard them collide with their armor. They weren't much of a weapon now but they could still be used as a good distraction and an excellent annoyance. He turned the car so his side was facing the GCPD and he eyed the guard rail about twenty-feet in front of him.

"Let's go!" Bruce yelled as his window rolled up.

He revved the engine and switched the car into drive as the police began to fire at his car. He braced for impact and the screeching sound of metal was heard as he ripped through the guard rail with ease, falling twentysome feet to the ground below. He bumped his head hard against the roof of the car and he groaned in pain, feeling multiple bruises begin to form and the nicks from bullets begin to bleed.

As he sped away from the scene of the crime and headed back to Wayne Manor covertly, he gave a slight smile. He had just showed the police and citizens of Gotham that finally, someone had stood up to the fear and corruption and had decided to fight back. He still needed better gear and better training but at least he knew he'd survive any battle he had been put up against. He hated to give credit to his enemies but he knew was thankful for Ra's. At least for teaching him the ways of a warrior.


	23. Stop Your Vehicle

Bruce groaned in pain as moved slightly in his seat and felt sticky blood come off from the seat. He took off the bat mask and shook his head. As he came off the bridge, he heard the familiar roar of a helicopter's blades in the distance. He looked in his side mirror and saw a searchlight flood the mirror. He dodged a passing taxi cab and hit the road off the bridge hard, lightly bouncing the car. He held onto the steering wheel tight and switched gears once again as he drifted across the sharp curve that lead to a fork in the road; one way leading to the shortcut to Wayne Manor and the other sending him to the other side of Gotham City. He cursed in his head and tried his best to scan the road, looking for any chance of escape.

"Driver. Stop your car immediately and turn the engine off!" an officer said from the helicopter intercom.

"Yeah, right." Bruce grumbled, swerving off the main road and onto the gravel.

Rocks and dust were kicked up behind him as he switched to FWD and looked back in his mirror, seeing two squad cars behind him as well. He slammed the dashboard and did a complete 360 as the GCPD got closer to him. He grit his teeth and got all of the ninja stars out of the tray and he opened his window, flinging them out at high speed, aiming for their tires. Two stars hit the lead police car and Bruce watched as the front tire blew out, making the car swerve to the right and drive up the hill at a dangerous speed, the car flipping upside-down and crushing the front bumper and breaking the windshield completely.

* * *

"We have reports that the Gotham Police are closing in on the mysterious man the police are calling "Bat-Man". He seemed to have been wearing a hood with bat ears and was throwing "knives" according to eyewitness reports. The police are chasing his vehicle in the Palisades area just south of Gotham." Jack Ryder, lead reporter for GCN said as he stood before the aftermath of the Farland Bank Shooting.

Alfred had a hand over his mouth and looked outside the two-story kitchen window as he saw faint blue and red lights outside. He ran to the window and saw a black vehicle followed by a helicopter and a GCPD squad car pass by at high speeds. He shook his head with a sudden sick stomach and called Bruce on his personal cell phone.

"Answer, dammit!" Alfred yelled to himself, slamming the counter.

* * *

"Hello?" Bruce said as he drove onto the opposite lane and avoided civilian vehicles as the police continued to chase him.

"What are you doing? I just saw you past by!" Alfred screamed through the phone.

"Don't worry! I have everything under my... control!" Bruce replied, pausing after he scraped the door of an eighteen-wheeler.

"Oh, God!" Alfred groaned.

"I'll be back in five! I swear!" Bruce replied, hanging the phone up and putting two wheels on the steering wheel as he maintained control of the car.

He watched the speedometer hit 110 MPH as he turned back onto his lane and watched the police car begin to fall back. The helicopter was about twenty feet behind him and kept speeding up until it was almost over top of him. Bruce looked above through his window and saw that they had a camera mounted to the side. He quickly put his mask back on as he drifted to the side of the road and gravel was kicked up once again.

"Driver! Stop your vehicle or we will fire!" the officer said from the helicopter again.

Bruce revved the engine as far as it would and turned another sharp curve as the officers began firing at him with military assault rifles. Bullets hit the car and Bruce winced as one went straight through the windshield, creating a huge crack in it. Bruce didn't even flinch as he tossed the entire tray outside the window, watching in his rear-view mirror as the tires crushed the glue bombs scattered on the street and the two rear tires got caught, ripping them from the axel of the car and sending the vehicle careening into the guard rail on the sharp curve, completely crushing the back of the police car.

"Damn." Bruce said while shaking his head.

He didn't like the cops but he didn't want to hurt them. He wanted to protect the innocent and punish the guilty. In order to show Gotham that someone could be above the law and still do good, the police needed to stay unharmed. Bruce saw the car hit the guard rail and knew the officer inside would be okay. He hadn't hit the rail with too much and the car didn't hit the ground as hard as Bruce had thought. He saw the secondary bridge that led to Old Gotham a minute later and tried to formulate a plan that would let him escape. He knew the car was untraceable and he had ordered the parts separately so any police wouldn't get suspicious. Bruce knew what he had to do. This car had to be blown to shit.

He switched into third gear and drove onto the bridge, trash and other debris flying up as he zoomed across it. He saw homeless people walking along the sidewalk and saw them give the car looks and watched them run away as the helicopter zoomed over the bridge with a news chopper quickly behind it. Bruce saw a large truck passing by and was barely able to dodge it as he steered past the front bumper, scraping his door.

"Stay on him!" Commissioner Loeb yelled as he sat in the passenger seat and pointed at the getaway car.

He watched as his officers fired at the vehicle and most of the bullets bounced right off. He had his face almost against the glass of the helicopter cockpit. He looked at the RPM meter and saw that he was pushing the 5. He knew if he went pass seven, the car engine would overheat and the car would stop. Bruce open the back console and saw the nitrous tank he had kept for safe keeping. He shook his head and looked at the fuses, unclipping the gas containment knob and letting the gas pour into the car. Bruce could smell it and nearly passed out from the fumes, nearly driving up the sidewalk before regaining control. Bruce ripped off the top to the console and jammed it between the gas pedal and the bottom of the seat. The car kept speeding up, heading straight for the end of the bridge and about to go into a run-down shelter. Bruce got out of the car and made sure his mask was tight as he grabbed the lighter in the glove compartment and barely able to keep his balance as he jumped on the top.

Bruce stood on top of the car and held the lighter inside the car. He knew this would be his only chance and he would only have half a second to jump off the car once the gas was ignited. He felt more bullets hit the roof and felt one bullet graze the back of his costume, adding to his injuries. He groaned as he tried to light the lighter and gasped when he saw the flame erupt and cover the interior in one quick, orange flash. He leaped to the right and flew fifty feet through the air to the river below. He heard the explosion of the car and saw its wreckage careen into the side of the bridge, the heavy metal stopping the fiery wreck but creating a messy and noisy scene.

"Shit!" Bruce yelled as he flew into the river hard, creating a huge splash.

As he tried to swim to the surface, he saw and heard bits of the car fly into the river as well, covering the surface with burnt debris. He held his breath for over a minute as he swam to shore, keeping himself under so the helicopter's searchlight couldn't reach him. He climbed along the sandy shore until he reached the large area of trees and quickly ran across the forest, swinging past the trees and avoiding the searchlight as it sliced through the densely wooded area. Bruce took one deep breath as he came to the road that led back to Wayne Manor and hopped over the guardrail, seeing the shortcut backroad. He looked both ways twice and watched as the helicopter began to fly back to the bridge. He ran across the road and didn't stop running even when his legs and lungs were burning. He saw the faint outline of his home three minutes later and breathed a sigh of relief. He was about to call Alfred but noticed that his phone was missing. He concluded that it had been burnt up in the car fire and continued on his journey home.

_Alfred's going to ground me._


	24. Crime Scene

**three hours ****later**

"Gordon! You found anything?" Sergeant Eric Lawson asked Jim Gordon as he was searching along the shores of the Palisades.

"Not really," Gordon replied as he stuck his tweezers back in his pocket and continued to look at the sand, seeing visible signs of human activity in the last few hours.

"Just that the man was here and went off into the woods somewhere."

"Hm. I still don't know how he survived that. He jumped fifty-feet after escaping a burning sports car, fell into the freezing water, swam a couple hundred meters without us seeing him at all, and is now in the forest somewhere in thirty-degree weather. Either he is an expert... or he's a lucky son-of-a-bitch." Lawson replied.

"You got me. It's clear he's psychotic. Me and Harvey actually saw what he was wearing. He looked like a bat." Gordon said as he looked at the water.

The crime scene had been lightened by many headlamps set up all along the sandy shore. Aquatic teams were in the water and helicopters were covering the entire city of Gotham. Two of the shooters had escaped without any possible leads. Gordon was afraid that these killers would strike again. He began to wonder if the shooters had a pattern or if it was maniacal randomness. Just as he began to really ponder the pattern question, Bullock came up behind him and sighed loudly.

"That was insane." Bullock said, taking off his fedora and scratching his rough five o' clock shadow.

"Yeah. Just think; four hours ago we were eating at that grease pit you call a pizza place and I was going home if you told me one more academy story and now look." Gordon said with a slight laugh as he pushed his glasses to his head.

"How's your battle wound?" he asked Bullock as he saw the cast on his arm.

"Ah. Doc says it'll be fine in two months. Bullet didn't go all the way in so it could've been worse." Bullock replied, taking out his notepad awkwardly with one hand and writing notes down with the pencil in his mouth.

"Good." Gordon said, his voice trailing off as he saw something glimmering in the water near shore.

He took his hands out of his trenchcoat pockets and grabbed the mini-flashing attached to his belt. He clicked it on and once again saw the glare of something shiny in the water. He took off his shoes and socks and Bullock watched him closely, knowing his partner was onto something. Gordon put his feet in the water and ignored the sharp chill as the water waded against his legs. He pulled out his tweezers and picked up the object.

"What'd you find?" Bullock asked, walking over to Gordon.

"A cell phone." Gordon replied, looking at it in the headlamp's light.

"I think it's the suspect's."


	25. Round Two

"Oh, I'm surprised you're alive." Alfred said with his arms crossed as Bruce busted through the front door of Wayne Manor.

Bruce shook his head and limped through the door, nearly knocking over a stool beside the coat hanger. Alfred saw blood seeping through the skin-tight cloth and onto the tile floor. Alfred held his limp body and noticed that he was completely wet and cold. Bruce cracked his neck and took off the mask, slamming it against the floor. He took off the the cloth torso shirt and the Kevlar vest, letting Alfred see all the bruises and blood marks all over his body.

"My, God. What happened?" Alfred asked, helping Bruce up the stairs.

"Ugh. Don't even tell me you weren't watching the news. I got away from the police and I had to blow up the car. God, that was a nice car." Bruce said with a dazed voice.

"Master Bruce! Can't they trace it?" Alfred asked as they neared the master bedroom.

"No...no. I got all the pieces from different places across the country. I used a fake IP address when I ordered the car parts so they'll think the buyer was from New Zealand. But I would be a suspect though. We need to provide a cover because I imagine I have a couple bruises on my face." Bruce replied.

"Not _only_ on your face." Alfred said back smartly as he opened Bruce's bedroom door.

Bruce groaned slightly and flopped onto his bed, laying his head hard into the soft pillows and blankets. He took off his bloodied cargo pants and wrapped the sheets around his naked body, feeling exhausted and stressed. He had made an impact. He had possibly saved lives and got those shooters put behind bars. It had worked. Well, besides losing the car and becoming numb all over his body. As Alfred went quickly to the kitchen to prepare a slew of medications for his pain, Bruce grabbed the wall phone beside the bed used for his father's doctor house calls and he tried to remember the Wayne Enterprises front office number.

"Hello? Is this Francine?" Bruce asked, trying to ignore the pain and give his best playboy impression possible.

"Um... yes? May I ask who is speaking?" the secretary responded, sounding tired and worried.

"It's Bruce Wayne. Remember?" Bruce said with a fake smile on his face.

"Oh..." Francine replied, her voice sounding higher and more happy.

"Hi, Mr. Wayne. Did you see what happened? The bank across the street got shot up by some shooters. I was so afraid but Mr. Early said I had too stay until my shift was up."

"Oh my God." Bruce said, trying his best to sound like a scared idiot.

"Yeah. It was pretty scary." Francine responded, biting her lip.

"I'm sorry, beautiful." Bruce said, sounding seductive and caring.

"Well, thanks. Why did you call? Did you have a question for Mr. Fox? He's the CEO now since Ms. Wells was killed. I got a pad." Francine said, her smile showing through the phone.

"Oh no. I... wanted to see if... you could come over here for a late dinner. I never got your personal number." Bruce said as Alfred walked in with a handful of pills and a big glass of water with a vitamin mix put in with it.

"What? There's no way I could get off. Mr. Early would kill me. He takes his job very seriously." Francine replied.

"Who's Mr. Early?" Bruce asked.

"He watches all of the employees. He's been here for over three decades and knows when someone skips. I would love to spend the ni- eat dinner with you but I can't, Mr. Wayne." Francine said, suddenly stuttering on her words.

"C'mon. I'll give him a call." Bruce said, keeping his fake smile up while Alfred sat his pills on the table, eavesdropping on the conversation.

"Hm... are you sure? I don't want to lose my job." Francine said, sounding like a cute damsel-in-distress.

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I'm bored and would love some company." Bruce said.

"Okay. Give me twenty minutes." Francine said, sounding excited and giddy, quickly hanging up the phone.

Bruce hung up the phone and quickly got up, not embarrassed to bare in front of his butler as he ran to the shower, ignoring the pain all over. Alfred followed him to the bathroom as Bruce opened the glass door and quickly turned the water on.

"Who was that?" Alfred asked after a brief moment of silence as Bruce scrubbed his body hard, wincing as the loofah went over the bruises and scars beginning to rise.

"The pretty secretary at WE." Bruce yelled over the roaring of water.

"Master Bruce..." Alfred began.

"Listen, I need a good alibi in case those cops come in trying to question me. They'll probably come by tomorrow." Bruce replied.

Alfred let out a sigh and shook his head as he prepared the towel for his young master.

"Don't use this poor girl as an excuse. You'll treat her good for one night and throw her out in the morning. I cannot agree with that, Master Bruce."

"I'm not, Alfred. I don't like the girl. She's pretty and gets attention. If the police come and see her leaving, they'll know the billionaire playboy got roughed up in a different way if you catch my drift." Bruce said as he washed his hair.

"I will _not _be catching your drift." Alfred said with slight disgust.

"Ah... come on. Cheer up. This'll go fine."

* * *

"Hello, my pretty lady." Bruce said, taking Francine's hand as she walked through the main doors and Bruce stood in his dark blue robe and nothing else.

"Hi." Francine said with a pretty smile.

She was a very pretty girl. She had strawberry-blonde hair, a sexy slender build, cute white teeth, and legs to die for. She was wearing a tight black dress shirt and a short black skirt that showed off her tan legs. As she walked in front of Bruce, he couldn't help but look at her beautiful figure as Alfred rolled his eyes. The two of them walked into the dining room and she sat her company books down on the table as Alfred took her rain coat. Bruce sat across from her at the family table that was long and built for a king. She noticed the bruise on his left eye and the purple bruise inching from the left side of his robe. She gave it a small look before looking away. Bruce noticed this and clicked his tongue as Alfred brought out their dinner.

"I hope you like steak. I guessed medium rare. Is that okay?" Bruce asked.

"I'm... I'm a vegatarian." she replied, suddenly mocking Bruce's tongue clicking.

Bruce's smile went away and he looked embarassed. Francine leaned over the table and smiled.

"I'm joking. It's perfect." she said with a wink.

Bruce gave a relieved laugh and shook his head in amusement.

_I like this girl. She's funny. It's always good when they have a sense of humor. Just like that one girl... what was her name? Sarah? Selena?_

* * *

"Wow." Francine said in short breaths as she covered herself with the sheet and fell beside Bruce.

Bruce took a deep breath and looked at Francine. He turned over and brushed his fingers over her ear as loose strands of hair went into her eyes. She gave a slight smile and held his hand as they stared at the ceiling, thinking about how amazing their night had just went. Bruce got closer to Francine and held her close as he prepared to speak.

"I need to ask you something... and I'm not sure if you'll like it." he said.

Francine moved her head and looked at Bruce in the dark.

"Please don't tell me you're already in a relationship." she said with regret.

"Oh no. Nothing like that." Bruce replied with a slight laugh.

"But..." he continued, trying to find the right words.

"Tomorrow... there will be police at my door and when they come, I need you to walk out, carrying a pair of my pants and smiling as you go to your car. Just ignore them and drive away."

"What?" Francine laughed.

Bruce sighed and turned on the lamp.

"Listen, Francine. I need your help. The police think I've been involved in something and I can't be shown as the suspect." Bruce replied.

"Does it have to do with these?" Francine asked, pulling the sheet below his chest and slowly rubbing his bruises, seeing his League scars as well.

"Mmm... yes." Bruce answered.

"I don't know, Bruce. I'm a little worried. What happened? You didn't have anything to do with that shooting did you?" Francine said, suddenly rising up and backing away from him.

"Hey! No... no... no. I promise you I wasn't one of them. But the police might think I was there. Don't ask, it's a long story. But anyhow, I need you to help me. This isn't a one-night stand, I swear. I care for you greatly and I want you to help me." Bruce said, holding her hands as he covered himself with the sheet and got on the ground with one knee.

"Bruce." Francine said with a slight laugh.

"Please?" Bruce asked in a cute tone, giving her big and caring eyes.

"Fine." she replied with a smile.

"But I want a Round Two..."


	26. Gone In A Flash

"We have any suspects yet?" Commissioner Loeb asked as he wiped his mouth with a napkin after finishing his bagel breakfast.

Bullock and Gordon looked at each other with worried eyes and Bullock motioned for his partner to speak.

"Well, sir... I found a phone in the river. It was near the car explosion and we have a possible lead." Gordon said.

"And who is that?" Loeb asked.

"Bruce Wayne." Gordon replied.

Loeb let out a laugh and threw his napkin in the trash as he sat in his seat and folded his arms.

"Continue. I wanna hear how a dumbass rich kid beat some psychos to a pulp and escaped the GCPD in a car chase."

"Well, sir. It kind of adds up. Wayne just got back from college or so he says, Suzanne Wells is killed three days after he returns, he definitely had enough money to pull a stunt like this, and how come Wayne Enterprises employees seem to keep getting killed? Do you see where this is going?" Gordon explained.

"Hm." Loeb said, nodding his head slowly.

"What about that cane? Is it an act, you think?"

"It'd be easy to fake. Wouldn't you try to act disabled if you went out at night beating people up? Who would suspect you?" Bullock interjected.

"Hm." Loeb repeated, slightly impressed by their educated guesses.

"Do we have any proof?" he asked.

"Not at the moment. Forensics is taking a look at the phone. It has water damage but it's not too bad... we can still tell who the phone was registered to and who was calling." Gordon replied.

"Alright. Come back to me when the full details come in on that phone. I think you're on to something." Loeb said, motioning for the two detectives to leave his office.

* * *

**two hours later**

"You sure you don't want a fry? C'mon, Jimmy!" Bullock said annoyingly, waving a greasy french fry in front of Gordon's face as he drove down Main Street.

Gordon pushed the glasses to his head and gave Harvey a scowl, making Bullock quickly eat the fry before his partner shoved it in his face. They had just eaten at a local Mom N' Pop restaurant a few blocks from Main Street when the squad car's radio went off, indicating a drunk in public six blocks away. As the car rolled onto the stoplight, Gordon watched as the drunken man walked across the busy street and tossed a half-empty wine bottle at a bus window. The driver gave him the bird and honked the horn twice as Gordon drove through the cars, putting the sirens on.

"Oh, God. Is that one of Cobblepot's little bastards?" Bullock asked as they pulled up in front of the man as Gordon turned the squad car around.

"Ah... yep. Another victim of The Iceberg." Gordon quipped with annoyance.

The Iceberg Lounge was owned by the infamous Oswald Cobblepot, a pudgy man in his mid-forties who was notorious for his 4'8 height, bad temper, and "unproved" dealings with the Gotham Mob. He was nicknamed "The Penguin" for his long beak-like nose and deformed hands that made his fingers look like penguin arms. His bar was known for hosting Mob members like the Falcone Family and the Maronis, several fights every night, and more booze than Amsterdam.

"You got him?" Gordon asked.

"Yeah. Probably won't even have to cuff him." Bullock replied with a laugh.

As Bullock went out and Gordon chuckled as they had their tussle in the street, Gordon's phone rang and he quickly answered it as Bullock tackled the drunk to the ground, showing all the people watching his badge.

"Detective Gordon." he said.

"Hey, it's Barry Allen from forensics. I have the analysis on the cell phone found in the Seaside River. You'll wanna see what I found." the caller said.

"Thanks, Barry. We'll be right in. Just got a drunk in custody. See you soon." Gordon replied, a spring in his step now.

"Alright. Don't rough him up too bad." Barry quipped before hanging up.

_I like that kid. Smartass... but I like him._

* * *

"What's the deal here, Jim?" the clerk asked as the three entered the GCPD HQ.

"Walking around Main Street, almost got hit and tossed a bottle at a bus. The usual drunk stuff. It's Leroy again." Gordon said as Bullock tried his best to keep the drunk standing up straight.

"Hm. I see." the clerk said, smiling as she let an officer guide the man to the holding cells.

Gordon and Bullock walked past the main door and turned the corner as they headed to the forensics lab. Before they walked past the corner, Bullock recognized a familiar face and tapped Gordon's shoulder.

"Why the hell does he have a PD badge? He doesn't work here." Bullock sharply whispered.

Gordon turned around and saw who Harvey was talking about. It was Apollo. Harvey Dent, District Attorney and hotshot superstar. He was shaking hands with Loeb and wore a GCPD badge clipped to his belt loop. Gordon gave the DA a look and Dent returned it. During his early days, the 27 year old had worked in Internal Affairs, working hard to find evidence that Gordon and Bullock were dirty cops because they had never been in trouble. They both hated the type of people that were sniffing out for the worse things in life. What a waste.

"Let's move along before I throw my burger and fries." Bullock said in disgust as they walked past Loeb's office and headed towards Forensics.

"I hear you." Gordon said as they opened the Forensics door.

Barry was inside with latex gloves, analyzing bullet fragments from a recent murder case. He rubbed a hand through his dark blonde hair and shook his head sharply as he saw the detectives walk in.

"Hey guys." Barry said with a smile on his face.

"How are you, Barry? Having fun?" Bullock laughed, giving him a hard slap on the back.

"Oh yeah, who doesn't love picking apart human meat from bullet splinters?" Barry quipped.

"A buzzkill." Bullock replied, giving a smile.

"So, what have you got for us on that phone?" Gordon asked as Barry brought over the plastic bag with the damp phone inside.

"Well, you're gonna like this. I was able to see the ID number and found out the provider is the same as... Bruce Wayne." Barry said, his voice draped in excitement.

"Also, I was able to pick apart the motherboard inside and the last call made was from the butler... of Bruce Wayne. And, finally... I was able to look through the contact list and only two contacts were inside; Wayne's butler, Alfred Pennyworth, and his family's company, Wayne Enterprises. Guys, this _is_ his phone. There's no doubt about that." Barry said, handing the bag to Gordon.

"Great. Now it's time to talk to him." Gordon said, nodding in Barry's direction as he walked towards the door.

"I can see it now..." Barry said.

"Bruce Wayne is the Bat-Man." he continued, his arms outstretched and laughing.

"Bat-Man?" Bullock asked.

"Yeah, that's what the news is calling him. No pictures though. I really wanted to see that idiot in that costume." Barry said, shaking his head.

"Alright, Barry! See ya later. Keep working hard on the bullet crap. You'll get big one day." Bullock said with a wave and a tip of his fedora as he walked towards the door.

"Well, this _bullet crap_ is probably going to be my last case in Gotham." Barry replied, returning to his work.

"What? You've only been working here for three years! You're 25, Allen. You're young!" Bullock said, suddenly taking his hand off the door.

"Yeah, I know. You guys have taught me a lot but I'm moving to Central City." Barry said.

"What for?" Gordon asked.

"Well... it's a girl. My girl. She wants to get married and she lives up there." Barry said, blushing a little bit.

"Oh my God... little Barry's growing up!" Bullock said loudly, giving Allen another big pat on the back.

"Thanks man. Yeah, they have a particular accelerator they want me to work on. I'm good with that kind of stuff and the pay is good. Just following my heart, you know?" Barry said as Gordon shook his hand.

"Alright, Barry. Well, if we don't see you again, just wanted to hope you don't get blown up or anything. See ya around!" Bullock said as the two of them walked out of the Forensics room.

"Thanks! I'll probably be gone in a flash, so bye!" Barry laughed.

* * *

"So... we have some evidence now?" Loeb asked as he looked at the phone in the bag.

"Yes, sir. We have enough probable cause to ask Wayne about last night and plus he's needed for possible witness statement." Gordon replied.

"_Possible_? Possible my ass." Bullock said under his breath.

Gordon held back a laugh and waited for Loeb's permission.

"You boys have done good. Go ask Wayne a few questions. This'll be good. Now, get on out." Loeb said, booting the men from his office.

"Alright, Jimmy..." Bullock said, clapping his hands together.

"Let's go bust the Bat-Man."


	27. Francine

"Master Bruce! They're here!" Alfred yelled through the Manor as Gordon's squad car was driving up the long driveway.

Upstairs, Bruce was watching beautiful Francine put her makeup on and put back on her dress from last night. He liked this girl a lot. If only he wasn't dedicated to another love, he would try his best to make a future for them both. She was beautiful, sexy in a smart and funny way, and was understanding of what he had to do.

"Are you ready?" Bruce asked as he tied his blue robe tight.

"Mhm. This is gonna be fun." Francine said with a big smile.

* * *

"I remember this place. Don't you?" Bullock said as they circled around the long driveway and parked their car directly beside the front door.

"Oh yeah. I wish he was still that innocent kid in the backseat." Gordon said as they got out and walked up the steps to the front door.

Bullock ringed the gothic-style doorbell and chewed his gum like a cow while Gordon felt a raindrop on his head. They waited for a moment until the infamous Wayne butler opened it wide with tired eyes.

"Yes, officers?" Alfred said, looking worried and sick.

"Um, may we speak to Mr. Bruce Wayne? We need to ask him a few questions about last night. I'm sure you saw and heard the chase?" Gordon asked.

"Oh, yes. It interfered with Master Wayne's "activities"." Alfred said with disgust.

"But anyhow, I'll get him. He's probably still asleep." Alfred continued.

"I bet." Bullock whispered as Alfred left the door open and walked to the staircase.

The two detectives walked inside and looked around, amazed by the architecture that was painstakingly made in exact proportion to each other like a temple. Bullock saw a girl's coat hanging on the coat hanger and he began to question the evidence. Gordon saw a woman's heel on the ground near the staircase and before he could begin to ponder, a loudmouth pretty woman stomped down the stairs, yelling at Bruce.

"Aw... eff you, Bruce! I'm sick of your lies, you dumb ass!" the woman yelled as she smacked Bruce in the face as they both ran down the steps.

"Babe! I only want you. Michelle doesn't mean anything!" Bruce Wayne replied, grabbing the girl's arm and giving a pitiful attempt to win her back.

Gordon and Bullock looked at each other suspiciously and really began to question their investigation. But at least they still had the cell phone.

"Mhm! Okay. Then why was she here at four in the morning?" the girl said.

"Well..." Bruce began, at a lost for words.

"Oh my God! You pig! Excuse me!" the girl said, grabbing her heel and bumping her way past Gordon and Bullock.

"Good riddance, bitch! She's hotter anyway!" Bruce screamed at the top of his lungs as he slammed the door shut and turned to the detectives.

"Hi, Mr... police guys. How can I help you?" Bruce said, wiping his forehead and rudely walking away from them.

Gordon rolled his eyes. _This guy really expects us to follow him? Just like that? Wow. _

"Well, I'm sure you heard about the shooting last night at the Farland Bank?" Gordon asked as they walked to the main den.

"Oh yeah. Alfred told me this morning after that wonderful girl woke me up. God, she takes a noisy shower." Bruce said, jumping onto the couch and yawning rudely.

"Heh. Well, Mr. Wayne. We just wanted to ask you some questions about last night? Where you were? If you went out? How your company's doing?" Gordon asked.

"Okay. Do you think I was out there killing people?" Bruce said, getting defensive.

"Um... no sir but we have some evidence that seems to indicate you had some part in the shooting." Gordon said.

"Me? What evidence?" Bruce asked, sitting up on the couch.

Gordon reached in his trenchcoat and pulled out the plastic bag with Wayne's cell phone inside.

* * *

_Damn. Forgot about that thing. Ugh... make up something quick. _Bruce thought to himself.

"Oh, thanks." Bruce said, grabbing for the bag.

"Oh, Mr. Wayne. This is evidence. We can't let you touch it." Gordon said, pulling the bag back.

"What? Why's my phone evidence?" Bruce asked in surprise.

"Because we found it in the river beside the car chase where the suspect blew up his car. Where were you last night, Mr. Wayne?" Gordon asked.

"And don't spare any details." Bullock added in.

"Okay... okay." Bruce said with a nod, clapping his hands.

"Well, me and that girl, Francine have been talking for awhile and last night, I invited her to dinner. Not to sleep with, but to tell her that... I've been sleeping with her sister, Michelle. She went through my phone and called Alfred, asking what he was doing. Unfortunately for him, he was picking up Michelle's dry-cleaning and I couldn't lie to her anymore. We made up after she ran out there and tossed my damn phone in the woods- you know how much shit I had on it?- and we spent the night together. But... Michelle came early this morning to pick up her dress... and you know." Bruce said, sounding upset and mad.

"Well... you seem to have more than one problem." Bullock said, taking off his hat as he squirmed in the couch.

"Yeah. You're telling me. And plus, she's going to tell my other girlfr-. Actually... never mind." Bruce said, his face becoming red.

* * *

_My God, this kid's a total asshole now. I don't know about this. _Gordon thought to himself as Wayne continued to babble and reveal how horrible he really was.

Bullock held the phone in the bag and moved the bag around, trying his best to act interested in Wayne's senseless rant. Him and Gordon made eye contact for one moment and Bullock slyly nudged his head backwards, signaling that they better leave. Gordon gave him a small nod and they let the playboy finish his long tirade. After he gave a moment for the to interject, Bullock spoke up, trying to save the day.

"Well, Mr. Wayne, as long as we have your butler to solidify the night, I think that'll be enough to cut you out of the investigation. But for the time being, we need to keep the phone because it is still evidence for being near the crime scene."

"Ah, I don't care. I'll make Alfred go out and get a new one. That thing came out like three months ago, guess it's time for a change." Bruce replied, getting up as the detectives stood up and prepared to leave the Manor.

"Alright, Mr. Wayne. Can you... call your butler down?" Gordon said, trying to find a nice way to say the phrase.

"Oh yeah... ALFRED!" Bruce yelled loudly up the staircase.

"Yes, sir?" Alfred asked loudly, quickly scooting across the hallway and down the stairs.

"These cops wanna talk to you about Francine going freaking crazy. Did you know she punched me?" Bruce replied, tapping Bullock's shoulder.

"Where?" Bullock said as Bruce showed him the bruise on his chest and face.

"Yeah, I wasn't going to say anything." Gordon added in.

"Do you want to press charges?" Bullock asked.

"No. I guess I kind of deserve it. I won't date more than one woman anymore, believe me, detective." Bruce said, rubbing the bruise seen through his robe.

"Good." Gordon said, waving at Bruce as Alfred opened the door for them.

"What would you like to ask?" Alfred asked in a professional manner as he held the door for them and Bruce noisily ran up the steps.

"We just need you to clarify Mr. Wayne's location last night." Bullock said, pushing his hat down as he noticed the rain had been coming down harder.

"Oh..." Alfred said, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Believe me, detective, he's been here paranoid since Suzanne Wells was killed. He thinks the assassins are coming for him. In retaliation, he calls one of his many girlfriends to take it off his mind. I'm not saying anything bad about Master Wayne, detective," Alfred said, his voice getting quieter as he leaned towards Bullock's face.

"But he is quite the trouble maker."

The detectives waved in a friendly manner as they walked down the staircase and into the rain, running to the squad car.

"My God, what is wrong with that place?" Bullock said with a laugh as he stuck the evidence bag in the glove department.

"I have no idea." Gordon laughed as he started the car.

"Can we _please_ cross him off?" Bullock asked playfully.

"Yeah. I think we can. Man, I really thought we had him." Gordon said, shaking his head.

* * *

"That was close, Master Bruce." Alfred said as he walked into the master bedroom and saw Bruce on the bed with the bat cowl, all sewn up and small pieces of Kevlar wrapped inside the ears.

He had a small radio in hand and Bruce cut off a snip of wire as he tied it to the radio.

"I know. But I told you it would work." Bruce said, holding the cut wire in his mouth as he fitted the radio inside the small earpiece.

"I suppose. What about the girl, Francine?" Alfred asked as he watched Bruce try on the refitted bat cowl.

"Don't worry. I'm not ditching her like I told them. She knows to stay away for a little bit. You worry too much, Alfred." Bruce said as he walked around, touching the right ear and clicking the radio button, leaning his head forward and hearing static.

"You're a grown man wearing a bat suit. I think I have reason to worry." Alfred said as he walked out of the room.

Bruce rolled his eyes and took off the cowl.

_C'mon. This radio will work perfectly if I fix a few kinks. This would let me hear the police radio and be up to date on crimes all around the city. I've got about twelve hours until nightfall. Should be enough time to let me fix the suit, this radio, and find a ride into Gotham so Fox can show me what's at WayneTech. It's time to take this to the next level._


	28. Damaged

Bruce got his house phone out and dialed Lucius Fox's office number, waiting patiently until he heard his calm voice answer.

"This is Lucius Fox."

"Hello, Mr. Fox. It's Bruce Wayne." Bruce replied.

"Oh, how are you today?" Fox asked.

"Good. I was thinking... would you like to take me on that tour through WayneTech today? I promise my personal business won't get in the way this time." Bruce said.

"Oh good. I'll be at the front entrance in twenty-five minutes. Just let me finish up a spreadsheet and I'll be ready." Fox said.

"Alright. Sounds good." Bruce replied, hanging up the phone and looking at his gear on the bed.

There was the torso suit, the cargo pants, and the bat cowl, and a pair of gloves. He knew if he was going on this crusade that he would need more equipment and gear. This city was tough, but Bruce could be tougher. And he was going to prove it.

* * *

"Hello, Mr. Wayne. Would you like to take the tour today?" Lucius asked as he shook Bruce's hand and headed to the car with him.

"Yes." Bruce replied with a smile as they got in.

Bruce knew he had to apologize. He had probably scared the crap out of the poor guy as if he wasn't under enough stress already by being named CEO after Suzanne Wells was killed. He had to make this right.

"I'm sorry about the other day. That wasn't necessary and I should've told you the truth about what has been going on." Bruce said as Alfred drove towards the WayneTech building, six blocks from Wayne Enterprises.

"Apology accepted. I must admit, I was a bit worried about the way you _kicked_ me from your car." Lucius said.

"I know. And I want to make it right and tell you straight up, Mr. Fox." Bruce began.

"I've changed. I was... a very challenged person before I left Gotham. It'll take too long to explain at the moment but I will tell you that I had experiences that made me realize what I had to do. I have more potential than most people and with that, comes responsibility. I have very large shoes to fill as Bruce Wayne and I will continue to help this city as the prodigal son but... there's a part of me that knows in my heart, that this city needs someone more than the police or rich people with money to waste to show how _good_ of a person they are. This world has changed along with me. No one has hope. Crime floods these streets, I keep hearing of threats of war, people _hate__ each other_. That's not how it should be. I know this sounds crazy..." Bruce continued.

"But I believe I have the tools and the will to become something more for this city. Something more than a man who can be torn down or destroyed."

"What do you mean? A symbol?" Fox asked, not entirely understanding what Bruce was saying.

"Yes. Exactly. The police in this city aren't a fearful threat for those who do bad things. Criminals have become more brave and they keep one-upping the GCPD. Gotham needs someone... some_thing_ to show that they have the power to brave those who do wrong and stand up for themselves." Bruce said.

"I think I understand what you mean. A vigilante?" Lucius said with a nod as they neared the WayneTech building.

"Techinally, yes. But no, in the sense that I am doing this for something bigger than me. This is personal, because I want my city to survive. So I guess I am." Bruce replied.

"Mr. Wayne," Lucius said, clearing his throat.

"Did you have anything to do with that car chase and the shooting last night?" he asked.

"If I say yes..." Bruce began.

"What will you do?"

"Tell you that you're sloppy, that the car you used was too bulky, even for a sports car." Lucius said with a slight smile.

* * *

"During the late 50's, Wayne Enterprises realized that they needed to protect their country in case of any emergency or threat that might emerge. The company began to develop new technologies in order to beat the Soviets of course. The C.I.A and the Secretary of Defense told your great-grandfather to develop weapons and military-style survival gear so infiltrators of Russia couldn't get the upper hand on our advancements." Lucius said to Bruce as they walked down a long set of staircases beyond the front entrance.

The hallway was covered with a silver paint, making everything look futuristic and pristine, free of imperfection. The WayneTech center was designed to withstand a nuclear blast from within the city, which meant even if the entire building had been stripped away, the center would still remain, free of radiation or blast damage. Bruce looked around and was amazed at the architecture of the center. It was made to last forever and that was a good thing.

"So, over here we have the farming and organic wing, where we develop plant fertilizer that lets it survive through the winter and different types of farming tools that can greatly reduce human work and plant crops faster, on your left is the vehicular wing, where obviously, we develop new vehicles that can work in many different types of terrain such as sand, rainforest, quicksand, and water. We're close to inventing a water propulsion system that will let water power the boat and create a small wave of air so it can float a couple feet from the surface." Lucius said as they walked through the giant hallway, pointing to the different wings.

"I read that WayneTech generates about 40% of the total WE profit. Is that right?" Bruce asked with his hands in his pockets.

"Yes. Just around... 32 billion dollars a year." Lucius replied as they entered the military section of the WayneTech center.

"Wow." Bruce said shocked.

"You'd be surprised how badly people need weapons." Lucius said with a wink as he scanned his ID card and let Bruce walk in first.

"Okay, this is pretty amazing." Bruce said.

The room went on for hundreds of feet and had sections divided in the room, some with body armor, some with experimental fabrics, a couple with climbing gear. Bruce was excited by the idea of using it all and watched as Lucius led the way.

"Now, before I continue, you do know everything you do from here on out is illegal, right?" Lucius said, stopping to look at Bruce.

"Believe me, Lucius. I knew the risks when I decided to do this. I'm ready if you are." Bruce replied.

"Okay. Let's begin" Lucius said.

Bruce and Lucius walked over to the body armor section and Lucius clicked a button on the side of the wall, revealing shelves of different types of body armor.

"This is a Mark IV type ballistic armor. It covers your arms and torso, flexible but heavy. The upside is you could put a pistol muzzle to the surface and it'll stop the bullet. It'll be hurting for a couple days but at least you'll be alive. Over here, we have the decommissioned Shark Vest Type II. The Shark was an experimental bullet-proof vest that was also fire-proof and resistant to a high-powered snipe rifle round. The Shark worked good but it's weight was the downfall. It weighed too much for soldiers in combat and ironically, more soldiers were killed because it slowed them down instead of saving them." Lucius explained, letting Bruce feel the armor as Fox moved down a shelf.

"Over here is something the Navy was very interested in but it was too expensive." Lucius said as he opened the clear case with little devices that looked like black pacifiers.

"These are rebreathers. They have enough circulating oxygen to last the average man about 45 minutes of air time. The $16,000 per unit. It's ridiculous but Wells wanted the money." Lucius said, letting Bruce hold it in his hand and move it around.

"Of course." Bruce replied, handing the rebreather back to Lucius as he looked at the other interesting gadgets on the table.

Lucius moved to the other side of the shelf and Bruce rose an eyebrow at the gadget in front of him.

"This was an experimental gas-propelled climbing tool used by US Black Ops teams in the mid-sixties. I've kept up on its design and have refitted it. It's sleeker, makes near-to-no noise, easy to use, and works like a dream." Lucius said.

Bruce was impressed by how it looked. It was nearly all black, heavy and metallic, slightly bigger than a pistol, and had a large hook like one used on grappling tools in the League. Fox let Bruce hold it and he treated it like a weapon, aiming away from Lucius as he checked the sights.

"What's the weight limit on the cables?" Bruce asked as he checked the grappling tool out.

"About seven-hundred and eighty pounds." Lucius said, crossing his arms as he watched Bruce be impressed by it.

"I like it." Bruce said, setting the tool down and letting Lucius close the shelf.

* * *

"Over here is the fabrics department. This is where we hold our experimental fabrics used to make military armor or camouflage covering for various vehicles. Come over this way, I think this'll suit your needs." Lucius said as they walked inside the next door after spending a half-hour in the previous department.

They were only a few workers down at WayneTech. Most had gone home after Fox had made the announcement that a special individual was coming for "open house". Lucius wasn't entirely sure if Bruce's intentions were good but he felt as if he could trust his judgement.

"Is that a cape or something?" Bruce asked as Lucius unfolded a long piece of fabric from another metallic shelf that came out from the wall.

"Uh... kind of. It was designed for paratroopers to use when they jumped from helicopters or airplanes. The fabric is specially made with hollow fibers that fill up with air and essentially make the fabric expand, creating a small glider that lets anyone under five-hundred pounds glide safely to the surface. It was too expensive as well and was discarded. It works like a dream though. I developed the tech myself about eight years ago." Lucius explained as Bruce rubbed his hands over the fabric.

"Mr. Fox," Bruce said, growing quiet and turning towards Lucius.

"Why are you doing this for me?"

"Well, I think that a part of me is trying to help your parents. I know they loved you more than anything and it's obvious that me and Alfred can't stop you now. The least I can do is make sure you operate with the best possible gear." Lucius said.

"What do you mean? I can use all this?" Bruce asked, suddenly standing up straight.

"The way I see it... mostly all of what I've showed you is non-operational and this _is_ your company. I don't see why not." Lucius said, tapping the shelf and watching it fly back into the wall.

"Wow." Bruce said, nodding his head.

"So. What do you need?" Lucius asked.

"Hm. Could you show me how to work that cape and how soon could you fix up a bat symbol?" Bruce said before giving a small smirk.

* * *

_Here we go... this is it. _Bruce said to himself as he looked at the city. He looked at the clock tower with a pair of binoculars in his belt and saw that it was 10:45 p.m. He stood on top of the WE building, new cape ready to go and old suit resewn. He held his refitted bat hood and held it in his hands as he put his open hand into a fist. He clicked a button cut into his utility belt and heard the radio click in his left ear. He started moving his head around and heard the snowy interference as he moved it around. He could hear that pretty reporter Vicki Vale saying something about the "bat vigilante" and heard a bad pop song as he continued to search until he found the police radio. As he continued to move around, he heard a calm tone in his earpiece and clicked the button again, the comm-link switching to his phone.

"Hello?" he said with a calm tone.

"Hey, Bruce! What you up to?" the voice said.

It was Francine.

Bruce gave a small smile and shook his head.

"Oh, you know. Just hanging around town. Seeing the sights before I go into work." Bruce lied.

"Work? Wow, the playboy has a job?" Francine replied sarcastically, another female's voice laughing in the background.

"Yep. Go a job at WayneTech. Have to go for orientation. What are you doing tomorrow?" Bruce said, trying to speed up the conversation as he heard the sound of gunshots and saw police sirens on the streets below.

"Um... not really anything. I'll call you early tomorrow morning, okay?" Francine replied.

"Sounds good." Bruce said with a smile as he hung up and clicked the button on his belt.

_Alright. Here we go. Let's see what the cops are chasing. _Bruce said to himself as he looked at the police scene.

Bruce put on his mask and looked at the full moon above the Gotham Skyline. He tilted his head towards the left and received the radio transmission loud and clear. The GCPD was on the chase of a white van, with six people inside; five of them had just robbed the Bank of Gotham of over two million dollars, killing three people in the process. Guns were blazing, people were screaming in the streets, and police sirens were ringing all over.

Bruce gave a scowl and leaped off the roof of the Wayne Enterprises main building. Resisting the urge to scream, Bruce felt the cape's fibers fill up with air and expand across his back, the black fabric holding him up like a parachute. He grit his teeth as the night air gave him a chill and he grabbed the two opposite end of the cape, letting him steer as he flew through the air, following the sounds of sirens and tires screeching below.

_Oh, well. Here we go!_

* * *

"Hey, Jack! Keep us steady, man!" yelled one of the robbers, Edward Nigma.

Jack the driver nodded and took off his stupid mask that looked like a hazard cone without the top point. He swerved out of the way and nearly hit a police car while turning the wheel. He was scared to death and hated his friends at the moment. They said they were going to play a trick on Eddie's friend at the bank and pretend to be bank robbers. They tricked him but promised him his share of the money if they escaped. When they got away, they would have hell to pay.

Jack nearly got them trapped in a ditch as he swerved the car to the right as two S.W.A.T. vans pulled up on the opposite street. He watched as his other robber friends fired out the window and he saw blood splatter on the driver's window and the car suddenly stop. He shook his head and slammed on the gas pedal, trying his best to drive away from the piled up mess.

"What the hell, Tommy? You can't kill them!" Jack yelled.

"This is our lives, you dumbass!" Tommy yelled back, popping a tire with another shot from his pistol.

Jack shook his head and quickly turned down an alley, sparks flying from the sides of the van as it hit the brick cans flew from the front of the cars and the robbers screamed. Jack's eyes widened as he saw the silhouette of a bat-like creature swoop by the alley and land hard on the van's roof. They all looked up and watched as a gloved hand burst through the top of the roof and grab Edward's head, making him fire his rifle into the ceiling, slicing the man's cloth costume and nearly hitting his heart. His painted bat symbol had a thin line sliced through it and blood was starting to pour over the grey fabric.

The man growled and slammed Edward into the side of the van. The man's cape was flapping in the wind and he tossed a glue-like bomb into the car, covering two of the men as they slammed into opposite side of the van. Jack turned down an abandoned street and cursed out loud as he slammed right into the brick wall of the infamous Ace Chemical Factory. The airbag flew into his face and a shard of broken glass flew right across his screaming mouth, cutting up the sides until he felt the glass grind against his teeth. He pulled the glass from his mouth as blood gushed out and screamed in pain. He looked back and saw one his friends dead, their neck completely twisted around from the wreck.

* * *

Bruce landed on the ground softly as the cape saved his life after the van careened into the old chemical factory. He whipped out three ninja stars and quietly hid near the vehicle as he saw one of the robbers trying to kick the back doors open. He too a deep breath and checked on his chest wound. Blood was slightly pouring from the cut but the cold air numbed the pain. He couldn't wait until Lucius was done refitting the Shark armor. With the new WayneTech equipment, he would be unstoppable. Now he just had to survive these crazy idiots.

* * *

Edward groaned in pain and hopped out the broken back doors along with the two other surviving members of the robbery. Jack put on his weird orange cone mask as movement was heard on the roof and hopped out the driver's door, leading his friends inside the Ace Chemical building. The bat-like man shook his head and groaned in slight annoyance and pulled three small ninja stars from one of the pockets from his leather belt and ran after the men. He kicked open the door and was greeted with a spark as a bullet nearly hit his right leg. He spotted the men as they ascended the metal stairs that led to the main chemical plant. Bruce tried his best to see in the faint light that bled through the dirty windows and quickly grabbed the top of the railing of the staircase after kicking himself off the opposite wall. He opened the next door and was hit in the back of the head with Edward's hunting rifle. His ninja stars hit the floor below him and he cursed to himself.

"How'd you like that, you freak?" yelled the redneck robber with Tommy laughing.

Tommy fired his pistol and nearly hit the redneck.

"What the hell, man? Kill him, not me!"

Edward and Jack were running away from the scene as they uncovered one of the old chemical tanks that were connected to a rope on the rail. Edward saw a red button and punched it, seeing all three tanks on each side of the rails start to heat up and watched as the lights hanging from the ceiling lit up. Bruce suddenly jumped at his chance as the crooks still adjusted to the light and tackled the redneck, punching him in the throat while quickly breaking three of his fingers and throwing his head into the metal rail. He turned around and dodged Tommy's gunfire as he wasted the rest of the clip. Bruce did a barrel roll and punched him in the stomach while Tommy hit Bruce's jaw and caused blood to drip out from his lips. He grunted in pain and blocked Tommy's blow to the neck, hurting his shoulder as it was bent out of place.

"Help me, you idiot!" Tommy yelled to Jack as Edward hopped out a window that led to the harbor.

Jack reluctantly joined him in the fight and Bruce knocked him down with one hit. Jack hit the railing floor hard and crawled away from the two fighting. Tommy hit his head and Bruce flew against the wall, dazed from the pain. Tommy laughed and ran at Bruce, hitting him with his shoulders and bruising one of his lungs.

"You're not looking so good, Mr. Cosplay!" Tommy laughed.

Bruce stood up and screamed in anger, tackling Tommy and throwing him over the edge of the railing, Tommy barely missing one of the chemical tanks as he hit the ground with a sickening crack. He groaned in anger and pain, turning to see Jack slowly crawling away. Bruce slowly approached him with threatening demeanor and Jack screamed in fear, grabbing the pistol from his back and shakily pointing it at Bruce. He grabbed Jack by his jacket and tried to grab his gun but Jack pulled back, falling over the edge and barely hanging on the railing. Bruce ran towards him and motioned to help but stood back, watching Jack's glove slip from his hand and hit the tank's side.

"I'll kill you, you bastard!" Jack said from the first floor.

Bruce turned his head and flipped off the railing, using his cape to land softly on the ground. He eyed his dropped ninja stars and gave a small smirk. Jack tried to shoot him but he threw all three ninja stars at Jack's hands and he fired the gun, piercing the chemical tank and providing enough pressure for the side to collapse as the toxic liquid poured out. Bruce widened his eyes and used his experimental grappling hook gun and attached it to the open sunroof over thirty feet up. The hook's cables wrapped around the window pane and he zipped up as the toxins flushed all over and made the factory turn into a chemical soup of disaster. Bruce held his breath as the fumes rose and quickly ran across the roof, hearing the roaring of the chemicals as they busted out the side of the building and created a purplish waterfall as the toxins emptied out into the Gotham Harbor nearby. Bruce found the irony that Ace Chemical had been shut down _because_ the city council was afraid toxins would spill into the Harbor.

Bruce knew he had done wrong. As he took off his mask and dialed Alfred's number, he wondered about that man who had been swept away in the chemicals. Did he survive? How could he? Bruce had tried so hard to become something more than a flawed vigilante but what had he done tonight? Caused property damage, killed a man, and put Alfred and Lucius at risk?

As he walked down a deserted alley, he saw a forgotten coat covered with dust and dirt and picked it up. He tore off his bat torso and ripped it in half, tossing it into the Gotham Harbor. As he put the uncomfortably huge coat on, he saw police cars speed by him and he looked back, seeing all the damage he had caused. That's what Bruce was. Damaged.


	29. Security Breach

"Do you think he's dead?" Alfred asked as he drove towards Wayne Manor as more squad cars zoomed past.

"I don't know. I can't see how anyone could live through the chemicals or the swim out. I really don't know." Bruce said, shaking his head as he rolled down his window and threw the musty coat outside into the road.

"Master Bruce... I must say I'm getting worried about your night-time adventures. How many bruises do you have tonight?" Alfred asked.

"Alfred... I'm fine. We knew what could happen when we started this." Bruce said.

"_We_ didn't start this." Alfred replied.

"Okay, maybe. But you did agree to this. So, you're involved, right?" Bruce said.

"Ugh..." Alfred said with annoyance as he pulled in the Wayne Manor driveway.

* * *

"I have to ask before you completely shun me..." Bruce began as Alfred held the front door open for him.

"What happened to the list of Wayne Enterprises employees that got fired or laid off?" he continued.

"There's a firewall on the server. It's got a generation-5 encryption codex running. Tough stuff." Alfred replied.

"Hm. Since when do you know all the hacker lingo?" Bruce turned around, looking at Alfred as he locked the door.

"Dummies' Guide To Hacking And Computer Systems." Alfred said dryly.

Bruce crossed his arms.

"What? I have to keep up with you." Alfred continued.

"Heh. So?" Bruce asked about the firewall.

"I set up a virus to try and break through it. The computer's been running all day. I'll see if it's done." Alfred said.

"Good. I have a feeling these guys are going to strike again and I don't want another shootout." Bruce replied, following Alfred as they walked through the study and into the library.

"_That_ we can agree on." Alfred said as the two of them walked to the library.

Bruce logged onto the computer and saw that the virus Alfred had uploaded had broken through over two hours before. He could now see over thirty names of men and women of every age and occupation. They were all fired for the same reason... or as Bruce would say... _excuse_. He searched through the list of names and quickly used his hacking knowledge received from the League and bypassed the GCPD criminal database, searching all the names for any possible motives for the shootings. As he searched for names, he saw a brief flash on the screen. He blinked his eyes with confusion and while trying to refocus, saw the flash again, catching the brief image of a white text box against the blue background.

The image froze on the screen for three seconds and Bruce could read the entire thing.

**CHANGING IP ADDRESS FROM LOCATION**

**SECURITY BREACH: TRACKING BREACH HOTSPOT**

**PREVIOUS LOCATION WAS CORRECT**

**CODEX 4-122.b**

"Alfred..." Bruce began, taking his hand off the mouse and quickly creating a new tab on the screen.

"Yes?" Alfred responded, seeing two cars' headlights shining through the window inside the study.

"I think we're being tracked."

Alfred looked out the window and saw six men get out of two of the vehicles. They had rifles and handguns.

"I'll handle this. You have your suit?" Alfred said, running to the gun cabinet at the end of the study and taking out the 12-gauge shotgun.

"No. It's long gone but I don't need it. Just give me the belt on the staircase table and wait thirty-five seconds." Bruce responded, peeking through the shades and narrowing his eyes as he inspected the men in the light of the front step of Wayne Manor.

_They've got guns and brawn. Wonder about their brains..._

* * *

"You boys ready? We'll take that Brit butler too if he tries anything." the leader of the group, nicknamed London said.

London was 5'11, had a menacing ski-mask with the imprint of a white skull on it, and was an expert in karate. He was going to take that rich bastard Wayne and hang him underneath the clock tower on Main Street for all of Gotham to see. It was his company that betrayed London and his group. They were on the verge of uncovering a great corruption plot from within the board members. He knew without a doubt that someone inside WE was taking money from the employees' paycheck and using it for their own worth. Due to budget cuts, many people working the desk jobs had been let go, including London. His job was the only thing keeping his family from starving and even the 30,000 a year was hard to cope with. When the heartless Suzanne Wells had given a pitiful final paycheck two weeks before to him and his peers, they were found without a job and hope. Wayne Enterprises had been the _one thing _citizens of Gotham could rely on due to the owners but recently, it was clear that new management was stripping the old ways of the company down and placing abusive ones in their absence.

"Hell yes. Let's take that rich-boy by the balls and drag him through the street!" London's right-hand man, nicknamed Joint replied as he cocked his lever-action rifle with a homemade suppressor on it.

"You really think Wayne's smart enough to figure us out?" a rookie member asked as he ran with Joint with a pistol in his hands.

"He broke through our firewall, didn't he? He's smarter than we give him credit for." Joint whispered as they ran to the left of the house, seeing a lamp turn off in the room on the right of the bottom floor.

"How do we even know Wayne's stealing the money?" Rookie asked.

"Listen. It all makes sense. Wayne leaves for about four years. He comes back with a cocky attitude and ready to run the business. He probably ran out of money on his ski trips or whatever and told someone inside WE to take our paychecks. He most likely wanted more money so my guess is he thought 'you want something done right... do it yourself.'" Joint replied as they sat quietly for London to make the first move.

London stood by the entrance with his sticky pack of C-4 behind his back and scanned the windows for any movement. He saw as three lights on the second floor went out five seconds after each other. London looked around in silence, gripping the C-4 tight in his glove as he prepared to throw it. Suddenly, he watched as the front light went out, almost sending the entire property into darkness, save for the giant full moon shining brightly through the clouds. He backed up slightly and looked at his other three men who stopped on their run to the right side of Wayne Manor. He heard something small fly through the air and heard it scrape against his truck. He ducked and hit his chest against the gravel, pulling out his suppressed pistol and aiming it towards the giant mansion front. He was breathing heavily from his mask and tried his best to look around in the darkness, only seeing his men looking at the sky.

"What's happening? Why'd Robert go down like that? Was he hit?" Joint whispered sharply.

"I don't think so. I heard something hit his truck. See! He's pointing his gun at the door. There's someone there!" Rookie replied, pointing to the dark figure of London beside his truck.

"Oh, crap." Joint said quietly, holding his rifle tight and aiming over the bush.

* * *

Bruce ran quietly across the top of the roof with a handful of ninja stars and saw the man beside the truck looking around in fear. Bruce refocused his night-vision goggles and leaned over the edge, seeing the six men in full view, scattered around his yard, one behind a large tree before the driveway, two by the right and two by the left. He looked at the leader and saw that he was holding something in his left hand besides the pistol. He gave a small eyebrow raise and flung another ninja star at him, aiming for his arms or head. The star flew through the cold air and knocked him on his right cheek, sticking inside the skin, making him bump his head against the door of the truck.

The man grunted in pain and jumped up, firing two shots at the second floor, a window busting with glass shards flying and mortar brick dust flying outwards with the second bullet. Bruce flung two more, aiming once at the man by the truck and another at the men by the right side of the Manor. He took his grappling hook and tossed it near the truck, busting the windshield out with the twelve-pound hook and making the man jump up and fire six more times, two shots hitting the roof. Bruce hopped off the roof, landing on the second level roof and barrel-rolling to the edge, executing a parkour slide before landing on the two men by the right side, slamming their heads into the ground. His ribs stabbed his bruised flesh and he struggled not to yelp as he rolled sideways into the gravel. He rose up quickly and flung his last ninja star at the men by the left side before heading towards the man at the tree.

"He's over here!" one man on the left shouted, firing a rifle shot that whizzed by Bruce's head.

He ducked completely and kicked the tree man in the right shin, nearly knocking him down. The man growled and hit Bruce in the back with the butt of his rifle. Bruce slammed into the ground and the man tried kicking his head in before Alfred fired a shotgun round at the truck, making all the men stop. The men on the left and the truck leader fired at the front door while Bruce distracted the tree man. When the man swung his rifle towards him, Bruce kicked himself off the wall as the front floodlight came on again, temporarily blinding the men as Bruce round-house kicked the man across the jaw, knocking him into the tree, a bloody front tooth shooting out. Bruce landed on the ground in a ninja-like pose, taking off his night-vision goggles and unloading all of the rifle's ammo quickly as he ran across the yard, bullet casings ejecting swiftly as Bruce pulled the lever repeatedly. He broke the gun in half by swinging it against the front of second car and throwing both pieces at the truck man.

* * *

London shook away the pain in his head as the back piece of Branden's rifle hit him and fired his last round at the shadow figure. The bullet hit him in the arm and he flew backwards. London ducked behind his car door as he opened it, another burst from the Manor's shotgun shooter. He grabbed an extra magazine from his vest pocket and reloaded, hopping up and seeing a small puddle of blood on the tan gravel and the shadow gone. He cursed to himself and looked around with his gun as he still held the putty pack of C-4. He heard the slight noise of thin metal being pressed in and looked up, receiving a boot kick to the side of his nose, hearing a sickening crack and yelping in pain. The figure hopped off the roof and grabbed London by his bulletproof vest, ripping his mask off and throwing him against the door, denting the metal.

"I would like a name and you would like blood inside your body!" the man growled, punching London in the gut.

"Screw you, Wayne!" London yelled, spitting in the figure's face.

"Watch out, London!" the figure heard a man way behind him yelled as a rifle was cocked.

The figure ducked after a rifle shot shattering the door window and London punched him in the face as Joint, the tree man, and the two injured men ran towards their cars. Joint avoided the figure's karate kick and the figure turned around, grabbing London's throat through the window as he put the car in reverse, making the figure's feet skate across the gravel. He growled in anger and lost his grip after Joint whacked his hand with a pistol, making his slip off and barely avoid his head from being smashed by the front left tire. The figure ran from the car as London shifted into drive, revving the engine and spitting up gravel as he hit the figure hard, making him fly into the air and crash into the driveway. The figure groaned in pain as both cars sped off and Rookie ran after them, cursing loudly as the figure eyed him.

"Rob! What about Wayne and Roy?" Joint yelled as both cars sped out of the Palisades.

"Forget him. He doesn't know anything and Wayne'll probably kill him. We need to plan better. Dammit! Who would've thought that _Bruce Wayne_ was that bat freak from the other night!" London said as he turned on the bridge.

"Hey! What about this? Wayne ain't getting up." Joint said, looking at the detonator of the C-4 charge and smiling.

London smiled as well and turned around, speeding to the edge of the Wayne Manor driveway seconds later and pressing the button.

* * *

Bruce heard a sharp beep get louder and louder and widened his eyes as he saw a blinking red light fifteen feet away. He crawled weakly towards the blinking red dot and picked up the soft putty, hearing and seeing the dot blink more rapidly. he rose up, ignoring the pain and look around, trying to find a safe place to set off the charge. He saw the cliff that led the river and he ran with all his might across the yard.

"Sir! What is it!" Alfred asked, reloading the shotgun as Rookie began to creep up behind him.

Bruce ignored Alfred and slid over the edge of the cliff, tossing the C-4 putty with all his might downward, aiming for the rushing waves below as the red dot blinked violently. Bruce rolled back onto the grass and held his ears as the C-4 blew up underwater, sending a powerful shockwave through the ground and creating a large splash that blew up a bit of the cliffside underwater. Bruce looked back over the edge and saw the explosion had gone off safely. Bruce gave a large sigh and closed his eyes, soaking up the pain that was brewing around his soul.

"Master Bruce!" he heard Alfred's soft yell across the yard.

Bruce flicked his eyes open and saw the hidden man trying to put Alfred in a chokehold. As Bruce ran to his rescue, Alfred flipped the man around and grabbed his wrist, twisting it completely around and punching him under the armpit, making the rookie scream in pain and sit motionless as Alfred held his hand in a way he could twist it more. Bruce took a breath once he saw that Alfred had controlled the situation and grabbed the man by his neck, knocking him out with a sharp blow to the side of his jaw.

"What now?" Alfred asked, regaining his breath.

* * *

Rookie woke up upside-down and with blood running down the side of his cheek. When he awoke, he noticed that he was thirty-feet in the air and hanging by a thick cable that made his leg numb. The man began to scream in fear but a painful tug from above made him stop. Bruce kept his ski mask on as he kept tugging on the cable and began to ask Rookie questions he wanted.

"Who are you and the rest of those men?" Bruce asked with a fearful, deep voice.

"I only know two of them! Justin Longhorn and Branden Evans! The other ones were named London, Joint, and Chuckie! My... my name is Roy... Roy King!" Rookie answered as Bruce slowly swung him into the brick wall.

"What were you doing here?" he yelled at Rookie.

"We were trying to kidnap Bruce Wayne... and... and... and... tie him up in front of the city or something! He took our money from Wayne Enterprises and got us fired! He deserves it!" Rookie replied, getting braver.

Bruce lowered the rope by two feet and made the man jump.

"Go on or you drop!" Bruce growled again.

"That's all I was aware of. I swear!" Rookie said.

"One more question..." Bruce said quietly.

"Did you kill Suzanne Wells and try to kill Bruce Wayne?"

"Yes. London killed her with a military sniper rifle. I know he was in the army a few years back! That's all I know. Please don't kill me! I... have a daughter now! That's the only reason I joined in! Wayne Enterprises was the only thing keeping my house running! I have nothing now!" Rookie yelled, tears beginning to well up.

Bruce held the rope and brought Rookie back over the edge with Alfred's help.

"I'm sorry. I'll do my best to fix it." Bruce said calmly before injecting Rookie with a tranquilizer before he could notice.

* * *

"What now, Master Bruce?" Alfred said as Bruce sat the unconscious man in the back of the company car.

"I'm going to find out who this 'London' is and the rest of his group. I'll track him down and take him out before he causes anymore damage. Then... I _will_ find out who's taking these people's money. It making them insane. Take him to the GCPD. He won't wake up for a couple hours so put this note on his and set him by the door when no one's out. I'll clean all the damage up and make sure they couldn't connect anything back to the Manor." Bruce replied as he shut the door and handed Alfred the paper note.

It read:

**ROY KING. 25, low-class criminal. Has info on Wayne Enterprises shooting. **

**-someone who wants to help**

"Yes, sir." Alfred said with a nod.

"And sir..." Alfred said as Bruce walked towards the front porch.

"I'm glad you did the right thing."


End file.
